Birds of a Feather: First Flight
by Nethilia
Summary: As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follw the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.
1. Owl Post

Birds of a Feather: First Flight

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 1: Owl Post  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** nethilia@yahoo.com  
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Author's Notes: Yay, my first HP fiction. This is a fic that's about the Ravenclaws of Harry's year. I'm starting with the first book, which is a parallel of HP and the Sorcerer's (Philosopher's) Stone. There might be a few vague mentions of Harry and the other major characters, but not a lot. I want you to look at these as what happens in the other house. (Always Gryffindor and Slytherin. I need fics about MY people, thank you.) There are a lot of author's liberties here, with a lot of characters. Not set ones though. Since almost none of the students I mentioned are seen in canon, other than a quick name mention, I've taken full liberty with who they are and what they act/look like/etc. I got their names from pulling last names and granting firsts, making them up entirely, or using the Harry Potter Lexicon to gather them. This fic was started after reading the first four books, and thus anything seen wrong in later books is not my fault. Got that?

I don't ship. So don't expect me to add any relationships that you care for. I don't care if Harry gets with Hermione and Draco gets with Ginny and Pig gets with Hedwig and Scabbers gets with Snuffles and Crookshanks gets with the Nimbus 2000. I'm just not that kinda person. 

Oh, and please don't review me or e-mail me and state the obvious such as, "We don't know where Morag was sorted, or if Moon is female, or if Lisa Turpin is a short squat brunette instead of a tall lanky blond." It's called _fanfic_, and as such I get to take liberties. Especially because these people have no faces and names. And please please please compare my personality of Terry Boot--or any one else in canon--to the other fics you've read about him. No one knows what he acts like, honestly, except for a few spits. So if you would rather him be a suave sexy lover of all instead of how I make him, I'll have to decline. After all, we don't need TWO Siriuses in the world. *grin*

As we know, I don't own HP. Do I look like JKR, or Warner Bros., or Scholastic, or blahblahblah? No....

Many many thanks and cookies to my beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri (Otherwise I would have mixed names, Britishisms, and the fact that Wizards don't have fridges!) 20 points to each of them. 

Okay, I'm done ranting happily. Thank you for dealing with me, read onward. 

*~*~*

Chapter One:  
Owl Post

Carolina Kipley dropped her binoculars after squinting through them at the barn owl that hovered near the barn. She had seen many owls flying out around the moors she lived near, so seeing one was no big deal. She lifted the binoculars again and looked more closely at this particular barn owl, first moving some of her thick curly auburn hair out of the way of her dark eyes. 

_Wait a minute_ She looked more closely. _Since when do owls carry papers in their beaks?_ She looked again, highly confused by now. _No, not paper—parchment!_

She dropped the binoculars and watched the owl. It looked as though it was flying towards her house. She watched as it came closer and closer, then swooped and started to descend towards her front door. It swooped, dropped the parchment on the ground, pecked twice on the front door, then flew off.

Carolina scrambled out and picked up the thick yellow parchment letter. The address on it was written in emerald green ink, and there was no stamp. She read the address aloud, finding it moderately strange. "Miss Carolina Kipley, The Second Bedroom, 12 Gully Lane" She didn't get any further before she saw through the front door her father looming over her, looking at the letter. "Papa, what's this?" 

Her father looked at the letter, his eyes widening. He took it from her and flipped it over to examine the purple wax seal. "I—I don't know"

*~*~*

Morag MacDougal's mother, Mavericka, sat down as she looked at the letter. ..."Oh my! I never suspected—I wasn't certain that this would ever come, but your father said it would" 

Morag stared at his mother with surprise. He'd gotten many letters before, but when he got this one, with its strange calligraphy and the unusual parchment, he'd taken it straight to his mother. She opened it, read over it, and then gasped in surprise. He waited till she sat down, then asked what had been preying on his mind. "Where is this letter from? What is Hogwarts? What do they mean 'You have been accepted'? I never applied to any Hogwarts."

Mavericka looked at her son, whose thick black hair fell into his wide almond shaped eyes, as it always did, and sighed. "Your father, rest his soul, was a wizard. I am what he would have called a Muggle, that is, a person with no magical skills. As the letter says, my son, you have been accepted to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school that trains wizards." 

Weak at the knees with shock, it was now Morag's turn to sit down. "I'm a—a wizard?"

*~*~*

Padma Patil and her twin sister Parvati were not the least bit surprised by their Hogwarts letters. It would have been a major disappointment if they hadn't come, actually. They were in a very well known wizarding family, and both their parents had been in Hogwarts when they were children. Anything less would have been a family embarrassment. They grinned in twin likeness as their parents read the letters. 

"When do we go shopping at Diagon Alley, Father?" Parvati asked happily. "I can't wait to get my wand." 

"I want to get my books," Padma said. She'd been reading all the books she could get her hands on her whole life, wizarding books about everything. She especially liked the novels, and the books about magical beasts. Parvati wasn't into books as much as Padma, but she would read a lot as well. 

"We'll go in a few weeks," their father said in his thick English accent, patting Padma on the head. "Term starts in a little over a month, and we have to make sure that you two have everything you need."

Their mother hugged them tightly, grinning broadly. "My little girls are growing up!" she beamed. From his spot on the floor, their little brother Amar giggled as he played with a set of wooden blocks, each of them chiming a different note as he touched them. He flung one at Padma as she left the room, and the sound of an A sharp rang through the air. Luckily, their mother had charmed the blocks so that they glided slowly through the air and fell harmlessly to the floor. 

Padma and Parvati ran up to their room, grinning. "Hogwarts," they said in a hushed whisper. "In a month and a half we'll be at Hogwarts."

*~*~*

Antigone held the letter up in front of her, reading the words over and over, shocked beyond belief. "Dear Miss Moon, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Since you are Muggle-born we have arranged for you and you parents to be visited in the forthcoming weeks by an official from the Ministry of Magic to explain your situation in full. Please reply by post no later than July 31 to confirm your enrollment. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

Above her she could hear her mother and father fighting, screaming at each other. She knew they were screaming because of her. Her mother wasn't even supposed to acknowledge these things. She certainly was not supposed to give her daughter the letter-- but she had. She had replied to the Deputy Headmistress as instructed, and arranged to meet the Ministry spokesperson along with Antigone later that week. Now these actions had set off her father once again. 

The other kids were crying as she hid there in the basement, sniffling. There were loud screams, and the sound of fighting. Antigone curled up, her light brown eyes red from crying. She hid there in the basement for almost an hour, until the screams died and she heard the basement door open. She wiped her tears from her cheeks, and hoped that it wasn't her father

"Antigone?" Her mother's soft voice whispered. "Antigone, are you here?"

"Yes, Mummy," Antigone replied softly. Her mother shuffled into view. Antigone snuffled as her mom pulled her into her arms. "Mummy, Daddy won't let me go there. I'll have to go to his school. You know how he feels about things like this."

"Antigone, this is a wonderful opportunity for you, and I won't let your father take it from you. You're going to learn magic, honey, real, honest to goodness magic. Do you know how proud this makes me?" Her mother hugged Antigone proudly. "Come on. We're going to spend the night at my sister's, and later this month, we'll meet this official person and learn everything we can about this school. This wonderful school" 

Carolina and her father sat at a London café that was across the street from a record shop and a large bookstore. "The letter said to meet Ms. Toners here," her father said, as Carolina looked up and down the street from her seat. 

"Did you bring what she asked you over the phone?" Carolina said. 

"Yes, enough to buy your supplies for the year." He looked around, then checked his watch. "She said she would be here around noon, that there had been a change of plans with the other people she was meeting today and she had to pick them up. She'll be here shortly, I hope." 

Carolina, bored from waiting, gazed up and down the street. She hoped that it wouldn't take too long. She was about to reach into her backpack and pull out the copy of _Trumpet of the Swan_ when a very nice Miata pulled into the parking lot beside them. She watched as a woman in a pair of comfy jeans and a loose T-shirt climbed out, her long black hair back in a long braid. She seemed to be carrying something over her arm, a long cloth, and she had what looked like a wand in her hand. "We're here, Mrs. Moon," she said, closing her door. 

A black woman with thick curly hair climbed out of the car, wearing sunglasses. She opened the back door and a young girl, about Carolina's age, stepped out. She was lighter than her mother, and her hair wasn't as curly. She looked around fearfully, then gripped her mom's hand. _She's awfully big to still be holding her mother's hand_, Carolina thought to herself. _Well, whatever makes a person feel safe._

The trio walked over to where Carolina and her father sat. "Mr. Kipley?" the tall raven-haired woman asked. Carolina's father nodded. "Good, good!" She took his hand and shook it firmly with her free hand. "I'm Esmerelda Toners, the lady who spoke to you on the telephone from my home. Just call me Esmerelda." 

"The Ministry official?" Carolina piped up. 

Esmerelda grinned. "Yes, Carolina, just one of many at the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. This is Mrs. Moon and her daughter Antigone. She is starting at Hogwarts too. My assignment is to help you all during your first visit to Diagon Alley, where you will learn more about the wizarding world, and about what the children will be doing this first year." She motioned for the Kipleys to follow her. "To the Leaky Cauldron."

"You've done this often?" Antigone said. Her voice was much quieter than Carolina's, and she still clung tightly to her mother's hand. 

"It's my job, Antigone. I help Muggle students adjust to the wizarding world. I've been doing it since the letters started going out this summer."

"What's a Muggle?" asked Carolina.

"It's people like your parents, with no magical talent. There are many young witches and wizards who are Muggle born or reared, and it's the job of my department to lessen the shock a little for their families. Yesterday I spent the day with a charming young family named Granger. When she got to Flourish & Blotts, little Miss Hermione wanted to buy every book she saw. Bright girl, she'll make a great witch. Ah, here we are."

Antigone and Carolina saw a tiny, grubby looking pub that was nestled tightly between the record store and the book store. Those walking past didn't even notice it, except for a few people who waved at Esmerelda before entering. A heavyset man in a blue suit and tie called, " Lo, Esme! Taking more Muggle-borns on their first visit to Diagon Alley?" 

"Sure am," she grinned. "Meet Antigone and Carolina."

The jolly man waved at the two girls. "Have fun! You've got one perky woman with you." 

Grinning broadly, Carolina waved back. Antigone managed a half smile and a little wave before Esmerelda hustled them all in. The pub was dark and rather shabby. People dressed in long wizard's robes sat around tables, conversing while drinking unfamiliar drinks. Esmerelda shook out the garment she was carrying. The girls could then tell that it was a set of what could be considered rather fashionable dark grey robes. She pulled them over her clothes and tied them shut, then walked over to speak to the bartender, a toothless old man. then walked over to the bartender, a toothless old man. After speaking for a few minutes, she motioned to the girls' parents. Carolina's father and Antigone's mother walked over. Carolina took this moment to speak to Antigone. 

"Nervous?" she asked. 

"A—a little," Antigone admitted. "I don't know what to expect." 

"Me too. I bet all the other first years that weren't born to—what did she say our parents are?" 

"Muggles."

"That's it. Muggles. I bet the wizard-born kids are all used to this. I feel sort of out of place." 

"Me too."

"Well, we can be out of place together, right?"

Antigone grinned meekly. "I guess so."

Esmerelda walked back to where they stood and led them to one of the booths. "Come on, let's sit at this table over here. Tom's going to bring us our drinks. Till then we can talk. I think I'll start with the basics, is that okay?"

Mrs. Moon and Mr. Kipley nodded. Carolina and Antigone slid into the booth so that they sat between their parents. 

"I'll begin with Hogwarts. It is the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the country; to be enrolled there is quite an honor. We don't know how Muggles can have children with magical powers, but they do. Don't worry, you won't be alone-- far from it. There are a lot of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts; and at Hogwarts, you children will learn to use their powers safely, with skill and with ease." 

The bartender walked up with a large teapot and five cups, along with a plate of crumpets. There was a few minutes of silence, while they were all served, then Esmerelda continued while the others sipped at their cups. "Any questions so far?"

Antigone spoke up. "You don't seem so much like a witch as do the other people here. You wore normal clothes..." 

"Muggle clothing," Esmerelda corrected. "There's nothing unusual about wizardry. It's just a different world."

"Muggle clothing, then. And—and you drove a car up here and you said you called Mr. Kipley and Carolina from a phone. Do wizards know about things like that?"

"Not really," Esmerelda said. "But you see, I was Muggle-born, like you."

Carolina blinked. "But you blend in as if you were born to this world!" 

Esmerelda shrugged. "I'm used to it now, after my years at Hogwarts and then at the Ministry. At first, they didn't want to hire me—thought I was a bit daft to want to work in a high Department. Lots of stress there, most Hogwarts students who go into the Ministry pick something a little easier and work their way up. But when they saw my ease at communicating with Muggle-borns, and how easily I calmed their fears, they knew I was perfect for the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. After all, having an owl deliver the letter was shock enough for your families, I expect."

Mrs. Moon nodded hard. "Very much so."

"Precisely. We Muggle-born witches and wizards explained to the Liaison Office that it wouldn't help much to have us pop out of thin air, wand out, at the new students' houses, dump them at the Leaky Cauldron, and then leave them to fend for themselves. We came up with this method of meeting and guiding each of you the first time. It's much nicer, I'm sure you all agree." She finished her tea and crumpet. "First of all, we'll have to have your money converted. They don't use Muggle money in Diagon Alley."

Mr. Kipley nodded. "Surely. Are we all done?"

Everyone nodded. 

"Good!" Esmerelda rose to her feet. "Let's head there now." She led them outside to a small walled courtyard, with a dustbin at the back wall. "Now remember this. Tap on the brick that's three up and two across from the dustbin. Once you have wands, you'll be able to do it yourselves. Very easy." She pulled out her wand and tapped the brick. It started to move, then a small hole appeared and opened up to make an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted into the distance. 

They were all considerably surprised, and Esmerelda grinned. "I always get that reaction. Welcome to Diagon Alley."

*~*~*

Morag watched in fascination as his Aunt Opaline held out a pot of glittering powder. After the initial shock, his mother had alerted his aunt, his father's sister, and she had Morag come over and explained to him all about Hogwarts. She was still a practicing witch, and she had sat down and spoken frankly to Morag about his magical heritage and what he could expect. He'd taken it all in, but was still a bit confused. Soon he would be going to get his school supplies and other material. Aunt Opaline's daughter Miriam was holding his hand tightly. Cousin Miriam was sixteen and a half years old, and would be starting her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. She had explained some of the things his aunt had not, and so she would be taking Morag to get his things. 

"This is Floo powder." Aunt Opaline showed Morag. "Dead useful for traveling. Just take a pinch and toss it into the fire, then say Diagon Alley' very clearly and loudly. I've heard you speak in school plays, speak just like that. Once you get there, don't move from the fireplace until Miriam gets there." 

Morag pinched up the powder and tossed it gently into the flames. It turned emerald green and flamed up brightly. He stepped into the flames, which were as warm as a comfortable bath, and said clearly, "Diagon Alley."

Immediately there was a feeling of being sucked through a tube...He spun fast, feeling dizzy, but, thinking of it like a roller coaster ride, he stayed still as he spun. Minutes later he stumbled out of the flames and barely caught his footing as he stepped into a dark, shabby pub. He stood, taking in all the sights. Then he waited until Miriam showed up, wearing her Muggle clothing.

"You made it okay," she grinned. "Come on, that was the hardest part." She let him out into the courtyard, and then pointed out one of the bricks on the back wall before tapping it and waiting for the portal to open. Once it was open she led him through. "Mum has a vault in Gringotts Bank. She said that Aunt Mavericka can just pay her back, I'll take out enough for both of us to buy things. I need to get new dress robes, my old ones are a big snug across the hips." 

She took Morag's hand—--even though he was big, she didn't want him to get lost here in this new world—and led him to a snowy white building that was much larger than the little shops around it. A goblin stood on the stairs wearing a uniform of vibrant red and sparkling gold. Morag looked somewhat fascinated, and grinned at the goblin. He bowed to them and they reached a pair of silver doors. Miriam skipped over the words as they were bowed through the door by two more goblins. 

"What do the doors say?" Morag asked.

"Only that you'd be daft to try and rob the place. They've got dragons, and griffins, all sorts of tricks and security measures." She walked up to a free goblin stationed at the long counters. "I am Mrs. Opaline MacDougal's daughter Miriam," she said, holding up a small key, "I need to open her vault." 

The goblin examined it closely. "Yes, that is her key. Who is this boy?"

"Mrs. MacDougal's nephew Morag. He starts at Hogwarts this term."

The goblin nodded and waved over another goblin. He led Morag and Miriam to one of the many doors that led off the hall. In this room was a stone passageway with tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small rail cart wheeled up. They all climbed in and the car sped off. 

_Now _this_ is like a roller coaster,_ Morag thought as they zipped down the tracks. They sped up and down, back and forth, over hills and into valleys, until they stopped at a small door. Miriam climbed out carefully and then unlocked the door. "It shouldn't take more than a hundred Galleons for both of us, more for you than for me, because you have to get fully outfitted. So, we'll take another handful, and toss in some Sickles as well." 

"What?" 

Miriam held up a gold, silver, and bronze coin. ..."Galleons are gold; sickles, silver. These little bronze ones are Knuts. Mum's got a lot for me, and your papa left a lot for your education. Mum will just have Aunt Mave pay out of her vault." 

"But what if I hadn't made it into Hogwarts?"

"Gringotts has a transfer service," Miriam closed up the bag, and she and Morag got into the cart. "Your mum's been using it for years, especially that first year after Uncle Geoffrey died, before she found a job. She didn't tell you-- she felt bad about using it for awhile. She only used it when she had to, mind." 

"Oh."

A few minutes later they were outside and Miriam led them towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. A squat, happy looking witch in mauve robes and a tape measure around her neck spoke while pulling out a pincushion. "What'll it be, miss?"

Miriam glanced at the school list. "Three sets of plain work robes, one plain pointed day hat, and a winter cloak—all of these black—and a pair of protective gloves. All tagged." She pointed at Morag, who pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. "First year at Hogwarts."

"Ah." She pulled out a stool and had Morag stand on it, then dropped a long black robe over his head and started to pin it up. "I do this once a year, near the start of term. You're not the only one who's been here today. A half hour ago I outfitted twins—twin girls, mind you, and alike as night and day. However, there's always a subtle variation in the measurements. Can't have one wearing the other's robes. Wouldn't do a bit." She finished with the first robe and dropped another over Morag's head, then continued speaking. "Miss MacDougal, yes? Daughter of Opaline?"

Miriam nodded. "He's my cousin."

"Ah, son of the late Geoffrey MacDougal. He was a nice man-- I remember him from when we were in school together. Smart as they come, was Geoffrey. You anything like him?" 

Morag nodded. 

"You do look like him—you've got his eye color, but not his hair. Geoff had thick red hair all over the place. Now you—you take after your mum. Pretty Muggle woman I saw her at the wedding. Yes, Geoff was a close friend of mine. Wish he hadn't died like that." She finished up the third robe—Morag hadn't even noticed that she's finished the second and dropped the third on him—and took them in her hands. "I'll have these hemmed in the time it takes you to pick out a cloak, hat and gloves. Boys to the left. And Opaline, you need a new set of dress robes, yes?" 

Opaline nodded. "Morag, find a good pair of dragon hide or the like for gloves, and your cloak needs silver fastenings. Got that?"

Morag nodded, searching around the store. He settled on one of the simpler black cloaks, a basic nice pointed hat, and a pair of shiny silver-blue gloves just as Miriam came up to the counter. She held a beautiful floaty pale yellow dress robe. (It looked like a normal dress to Morag, only fancier.) She also had picked up a set of ribbons to match. She paid for the robes and got her change. "Thank you," she replied, carrying her packages and Morag carrying his much larger ones. 

"Morag! Miriam!" Aunt Opaline and Morag's mother ran up. Morag's mother looked a bit calmer. Miriam suspected that Aunt Mave and Mother had been drinking some of Aunt Opaline's tea with rum. "How goes the shopping?" 

"Just got the robes," Miriam said. 

"Ah, we'll go with you the rest of the way." 

Morag's mother grinned. She hadn't had that much; she was calm but not giggly like when she was sloshed. "What to next?"

"Wands take the longest. Let's get the books next."

*~*~*

Padma flipped through her books while Parvati tried out wands at Ollivander's. She already had hers—oak, ten and a half inches, dragon heartstring. This was the last thing to get—they had been to the other shops, for their supplies and uniforms. Before counting out the cost of both their wands, their father had said that they could each have a gift. Parvati had immediately selected a pretty set of quills and pink ink with matching parchment. It was the kind of thing she was into. Padma had passed over the stationery in favor of a novel—_Maria and the Griffin of West End_. She was now reading silently to herself. She was almost to the part where Maria would learn who her captors were—when Parvati walked out. "All done," she said. "Let's go home." 

"I was just getting to a good part," Padma complained, rising to her feet. She stuffed her book in with her things and followed her mother and father up towards the Leaky Cauldron, carrying all her packages she could handle. Her father carried the rest, whatever she and Parvati could not. 

"When we get home, start packing your trunks," their mother said as Amar chewed on a Cauldron Cake. She turned to her husband. "Do you know who was here last week? We should have done our shopping then." 

"Who?" Parvati piped up. 

"Harry Potter," Mother whispered. "With the groundskeeper from Hogwarts. It seems he starts this year. 

Madam Jakarta—you remember the Jakartas?"

"Vaguely," Father said. "Weren't they our neighbors once?"

"Yes. Well, they saw him. Scar and everything."

"Ooo!!" Parvati trilled. "Tell me more, Mother!"

Padma kept out of the conversation, and silently carried her parcels. She didn't fancy gossiping about Harry Potter as if he were some vague figure. She had read a great deal about him in those books that she kept on her shelf--the special ones. She held her packages tightly to her as they traveled by Floo powder—she didn't want to lose anything. As soon as she tumbled out of the fireplace, she waited for her father and set her packages on the kitchen table before fishing something out of the pantry. As she munched on carrot sticks, Parvati landed in the fireplace and tumbled out. Her things didn't fall, however. She dumped her packages and bags on the chair and dug out her wand. "Look!" she chirped. "It's ten and a half inches, yew, with unicorn hair. What's yours?" 

"Same length, only oak with dragon heartstring."

"I wonder if I can do anything yet, like Mother and Father." She probably would have swished it around if their mother hadn't stepped in the kitchen that minute.

"Parvati! Put your wand away! You know better than to play with that. Go on, put it back in the box." Parvati pouted, but she did as her mother said. "Now do like I told you and go pack. Term is almost upon you. Two weeks and I'll have to take you to King's Cross Station and put you on the train. Go on!" 

Parvati gathered up her things and sulkily carried her things to their room. Padma was right behind. She opened up the steamer truck that their parents had purchased for them a few months back. She cleaned out all the dust and other things, then started to lay her things in. First was her black robes—all but one, she would have to change on the train. She also left her hat out, just in case. She did pack her cloak, gloves, school books and cauldron. She put her potions equipment and supplies in the cauldron so they would be protected during shipping. She then neatly placed her parchment, quills, ink bottles, and other little things she knew she would need. She had enough room to add some extra things, so she pulled her favorite books from the shelves. She also added her journal and some of and some of her "Famous Wizards" cards-- she had been been collecting the Chocolate Frogs cards since she was little and kept them in a nice wooden box. Parvati had collected them once, but she tired of them and gave all hers to Padma last year. (A lot of them had been sticky and smeared with chocolate, but that was Parvati for you. Padma had always been the neater twin.) She finished and plopped on her bed with her novel, when she heard Parvati complaining. 

"Oh, I can't get everything in here!" She tried to stuff in _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and huffed. 

Padma groaned and put her novel down. "Hold on, Parvati. I'll help you pack."

"Oh, would you, please? I hate folding and making everything neat, and you do it so nicely." Parvati grinned broadly at her sister.

"Stop with the buttering up. I said I would do it." 

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," Padma snorted, pulling everything out of her sister's trunk. 

*~*~*

Antigone grinned brightly as her and Carolina stood inside Eeylops. This auburn haired girl with dark eyes had been nice and charming since they had met outside the café. She'd also stayed with her while they went to Flourish and Blotts, and together they'd found their books and parchment and quills. They'd chatted while Madam Malkin had adjusted their robes, giggled at the beetle eyes and other supplies in the apothecary, and watched as they each tried out wands and finally both received theirs (Carolina's was ebony and phoenix, Antigone's was holly and unicorn). At the moment, Esmerelda, her mother and Carolina's father were outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, keeping an eye on their packages while each enjoyed a charmed lowfat milkshake. Esmerelda had assisted the Muggle families with their purchases, and they had obtained all the essentials. They each had some money left over and so they decided to get pets. Esmerelda had told them that as long as they didn't wander too far, they could explore by themselves. They had wandered, looking at everything there was to see, then headed to Eeylops. 

""Ooo!" cooed Antigone, as she looked at the pretty brown owl that Carolina had picked out from Eeylops Owl Emporium. "That's such a beautiful owl!"

"Yah." Carolina laid her fifteen galleons on the counter and watched as the clerk gently placed the owl in a pretty silver cage. "The clerk said she was a girl. What should I name her?" 

"How about" Antigone thought for a moment. "Nike—wasn't she the Greek goddess of victory?"

"I like the sound of that," Carolina grinned, "Nike it is, then! Are you getting an owl?" 

"I dunno" Antigone chewed on her bottom lip. "I do have enough, but I really want one of those adorable kittens they had at the Magical Menagerie." 

"Well, get a kitten then."

"But owls are so useful, you heard Esmerelda. They take your mail and everything."

"The school has owls. You can use a school owl." 

"But school owls are used by everyone"

"Tell you what. Whenever you need to send a letter, I'll let you use Nike even if we're Sorted into different Houses. Fair enough?" 

"Okay."

Once Carolina had Nike (and a book on owl care), they walked over to the Magical Menagerie. Antigone rushed over to the basket and started to examine the mewling kittens in the basket near the counter. "This one!" she crooned, picking up what looked like a puffy black ball. "Can I have this one?" 

"You can have whichever one you want, so long as you pay for it." the witch behind the counter said, checking on a basket with large mustard colored puffs in it. "That one's a tomcat."

"How much are they?"

"Seven Galleons each."

"Oh." Antigone looked crestfallen. "I only have six."

"Here." Carolina dug out a Galleon and pressed it into Antigone's hand. "Get your kitty."

Antigone blushed. "I can't accept money from you."

"Sure you can. You're my friend." Carolina smiled.

Antigone looked at Carolina. "Thank you," she replied. She dropped the money on the counter and watched as the witch placed the black puff in a small carrying cage and scooped the money off the counter. Then she handed Antigone the cage and they left. 

"Thanks a lot, Carolina!" Antigone hugged Carolina tightly. 

"No trouble, no trouble at all." 

Antigone practically bounced as she went to show her mother. "Mummy, mummy, look what I got! A little boy kitty!"

Her mother looked in the cage. "It's a kitten! Oh, how precious! What will you call him?"

"How about Shadow?" 

"Shadow is good."

Esmerelda stuck a finger and watched as he batted at it. "Feisty little one!" She smiled. "Is that it?"

Antigone and Carolina nodded. "Well, then back to the street." She rose to her feet. They all gathered their packages and headed back through the wall and then into the Leaky Cauldron. The bartender was cleaning the tables and grinned toothlessly as they stepped outside. The sun was setting as Esmerelda handed their train tickets to their parents.

"Now, remember what I told you about getting onto the platform, Mr. Kipley and Mrs. Moon. Just in case, a group from M.B.W.W.L.O. will be there on duty. I'll be one of them, and I'll help you. Just look for me, I'll be in normal clothes and I'll wave at you. Okay?" 

"Okay," Mrs. Moon said. Even with the sun setting, she kept on her sunglasses. 

"Remember, the train leaves at eleven o'clock, the first of September. Don't be late."

"We won't," Carolina nodded. "Will we, Papa?"

"Nope." 

"Well, I have to drive the Moons home," Esmerelda said. She had pulled off her robe inside The Leaky Cauldron, and the Muggles on the street didn't bother them. (There were a few weird or bemused glances towards Nike, who was asleep in her cage.) "See you the first of September."

"See you then, Antigone!" Carolina chirped as her and her father packed her things into their car and placed Nike in the backseat.

"See you," Antigone said shyly. She climbed into the car with her mother after they packed everything inside the car, and she held Shadow's case on her lap. They pulled off in a separate direction from the Kipleys, and headed towards Antigone's aunt's house. 

"Mrs. Moon?" Esmerelda looked at Antigone's mother. "Will you and Antigone be okay at your sister's?" 

Her mother nodded. "Yes. Her father doesn't like my sister much. He won't come over." 

"Good. Good. I'll pick you and Antigone up on the first of September, and we'll send her off." She placed a hand on Mrs. Moon's shoulder. "Don't feel isolated. You're not the only Muggle parent who's dealt with things like this to get your child into Hogwarts. It'll be okay."

Antigone held Shadow's cage closer to her chest. "Yah. I've even got a friend there to be with me, Mummy." 

"Good. You should make friends that are like you," Mrs. Moon said, turning to her daughter. "It's good to make friends." 

Antigone nodded. She could see the faint outline of the former black eye around the rim of her mother's sunglasses.


	2. Hogwarts, Here we Come!

Birds of A Feather: First Flight

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 2: Hogwarts, Here We Come!  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** nethilia@yahoo.com  
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

A bit of the text near the end is directly quoted from Sorcerer's stone pg. 111-114 American Edition, because I had to capture what Hagrid and Prof. McGonagall said. 

Remember, ships don't float in the sky of Ravenclaw Blue here. *sings* Sky of blue, sea of green, in a yellow submarine--darn those Beatles!—we all live in a yellow submarine 

Also needing remention: I don't own this. I tried the Polyjuice potion, but I didn't turn into J.K. Rowling. I got the wrong hair and turned into a rabbit. So nope, this isn't mine. 

Many thanks and cookies to Haggridd and Madhuri, my beta readers. ^.^ 

Okay, have fun reading.

*~*~*

Chapter 2:   
Hogwarts, Here We Come!

"Padma! Parvati! Get up girls!" 

Padma yawned and tugged the covers over her head. "Fifteen more minutes, Father," she whispered sleepily. 

"Get up! It's the first of September! We've got to get to King's Cross Station in time to make sure that we won't miss the Hogwarts Express." 

That roused Padma immediately. She scrambled out of bed pulled on her house slippers, then went over and shook Parvati. "Parvati! Get up!" Parvati grumbled reluctantly, got up anyway. The twins quickly dressed alike in black slacks and purple turtleneck sweaters, then took turns braiding each other's long thick black hair. Just as they were fastening purple ribbons to the ends of their braids, their father came in and started to take their trunks downstairs. As soon as they finished dressing, Padma and Parvati headed to the kitchen, where their mother sat sipping her morning tea, a drowsy look appearing prominently on her face. _She must have just woken up,_ thought Padma. 

"How are we going to get to London without being seen by Muggles?" Mrs. Patil stifled a yawn as she got on her feet. Amar was nowhere to be seen. He was still fast asleep. "We could use the Floo Network, but then we'd have to appear at the Leaky Cauldron and walk to the station—but that's such a far distance to walk with two heavy trunks. Broomsticks are right out, of course." She set breakfast in front of the twins, who hurriedly started to eat, impatient to get going. 

"And the girls can't Apparate, of course," their father said. "I guess we can take taxis. I'll call Taiga's." He threw a pinch of powder into the fireplace and called, "Taiga's Taxi Service." There was a moment of silence, then a young man in uniform appeared in the flames. He didn't step out however. "Taiga's Taxi Service, servicing wizard transportation needs since 1904. What is it you'll be needing?"

"One taxi from the Patil residence to King's Cross Station, please," Mr. Patil said. 

"We'll be there in a few minutes, Mr. Patil." The man disappeared back into the flames. Padma pulled out her book again from her tote bag and was about to start reading while she finished off her eggs when her mother appeared fully dressed in a simple blue-black pants suit, holding a very sleepy Amar. He was still in his pajamas. 

"Finish eating, girls. The taxis will be here any minute now. They don't take long at all, you know. Padma! How many times do I have to tell you no reading and eating at the same time! You'll get foodstains all over your books!" 

"But Mother--"

"Don't but mother' me. Put the book away and finish eating." Padma grumbled and but closed her book. They had just finished breakfast when there was a knock on the door. 

"The taxis are here!" Parvati, forgetting that her plate was still on the table, ran towards the door with her tote in hand. Padma got up slowly and went outside, where her father and the taxi driver were placing the luggage in the trunk. Her mother flicked her wand, causing the breakfast dishes to soar up, then fall into the sink. She closed the front door with a locking spell, then climbed into the taxi beside Parvati, who had rushed to get a seat by the window. Amar, still asleep, sat on her lap. Padma slid in beside her mother, and their father sat in the front by the driver. The driver started up the car, and they drove off towards London. 

*~*~*

Antigone Moon placed her backpack in the back seat while her mother and Esmerelda Toners, of the Muggle-Born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office, placed her large trunk into Esmerelda's car. It looked at first as if it wouldn't fit, but Esmerelda pointed out how her trunk was charmed so that it would hold more than it looked. The trunk fit in neatly. 

She went up to the room where she and her mother had been staying the past few weeks. She had neither seen nor heard from her father. Her aunt had reported that he'd been calling every few days with some rather nasty comments, however her mother hadn't taken the calls. As Shadow prowled around her bed, Antigone picked him up to put him in his carrier. "C'mon, Shadow, we're on our way to Hogwarts now, you have to get in here." Shadow yowled as if offended, spitting and hissing at his new Mistress. Antigone finally managed it, then looked at him as he glared at her with big yellow eyes. "I know, I've let you wander free since we got home from Diagon Alley, but I don't want to lose you on the trip." She picked up the carrier and headed downstairs to the car. 

As she set Shadow inside, her aunt looked over at Antigone's mother. "What platform are you leaving from?" 

Antigone looked at her ticket. She'd kept her ticket in her bag so that there would be absolutely no question of where it was. "Platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock." 

"Platform what?" Her aunt looked a bit shocked.

"Nine and three-quarters, auntie."

She reached into the car and took the ticket from Antigone. "You must have misread it." She looked the ticket up and down. "No, that's what it says: Hogwarts Express... September the first... Eleven o'clock... Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. There must be an error. There is no platform nine and three-quarters. I've taken lots of trains from King's Cross and there has never been a platform nine and three-quarters. We'll figure it all out once we get there." She handed back the ticket. 

"Most certainly," Esmerelda replied. She looked at Antigone with a knowing look.

"I guess so," Antigone whispered. Her mother nodded, and they headed off to the train station. It was a rather uneventful trip. Antigone spent it reading one of her textbooks. 

They arrived at the station about a quarter past ten. Antigone's mother helped lift the trunk onto one of the carts, and the trio wheeled the cart into the station, Antigone holding on tightly to Shadow's carrier. 

"Antigone!" 

She turned to see Carolina Kipley calling her over to platform nine, while waving with a piece of half-eaten toast in her hand. Her trunk was on a cart beside her, with Nike sitting in her cage on top, looking quite indignant at the throngs of people that passed by. She ran over to Carolina, jostling Shadow's carrier and causing him to let out more pitiful mewling. Her mother and Esmerelda came up behind her, pushing her trunk. 

"Hello, Carolina. It seems you got here just fine." said Antigone's mom. 

"Yes, Mrs. Moon. Papa and I had a nice trip here—Nike was the only one complaining because she was in the cage the whole time." She tapped Nike's cage, and Nike looked over at Antigone boredly.

"Where is you father, actually?" inquired Ms. Toner. 

"He's off looking for you. I've spent the past weeks training Nike. I also bought one of those gloves bird keepers wear so she can perch on my arm without hurting me." She took a munch on her toast. 

Mr. Kipley came back up then. "Haven't found her yet. She must be wearing norm—I mean Muggle clothes. She does tend to blend in rather well." he added, embarrassed. 

"Very well indeed, I should say, seeing as I'm standing right here," Esmerelda quipped. 

"Oh! Hello." Mr. Kipley looked a might sheepish.

"Never mind. Now, do any of you remember how to get onto the platform?"

"Not really," Antigone's mother said, meekly looking at her feet. "I know it has something to do with this barrier here. Perhaps it opens up."

"Maybe. Perhaps we're early." Carolina suggested. 

"None of those," Esmerelda corrected. "The Muggles aren't paying a lot of attention right now, so I'll take you all through now."

"Through what?" 

Esmerelda pointed directly at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Just walk straight towards it."

"What?" Carolina said. "It's quite solid!"

"To Muggles and those who don't see it, yes. To us, it's just an illusion. Don't stop once you head towards it. And pretend to look interested at something else, so that it appears casual. Go on now. You two first," she said, motioning towards Antigone and Carolina. "I'll bring your parents behind you." 

Carolina and Antigone looked at each other, almost worried. "Well, okay" Antigone replied shyly. 

"I'll lead," Carolina suggested. She picked up Nike's cage in one hand, reached out and took Antigone hand with the other, then pulled her forward, towards the barrier. Antigone scrunched up her eyes, imagining how silly she would look if her nose bashed up against the barrier. She worried too that Shadow's carrier might crack open if they hit too hard. 

"Whoa." Carolina's breathless voice made Antigone open her eyes. She cracked one eyes and then gasped, squeezing her hands tightly around the handle of Shadow's carrier.. Before them was a large scarlet steam engine with lots of people wandering around the platform, placing trunks on the train and gathering in groups. Many of the adults were in robes, and so were some of the children. They stood there, turning and looking at the sight. A pale boy with a pinched face walked past them casually as Carolina squealed, "This is so cool!" He looked at them as if they had made a scene, then mumbled something as his parents led him off with his trunk and owl. It sounded like "mudbloods," but Antigone ignored him. Whatever he had said, it wasn't important. He didn't look very nice, anyway. 

Behind them their parents and Esmerelda appeared, underneath the iron archway that read _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_. "Come on, I know there's an open cabin near the front. Let's load your trunks." 

"I'll help." Mr. Kipley stepped forward. "If Antigone's trunk is like Carolina's, it's more than a bit heavy." Together he and Esmerelda, along with two railroad porters, helped tuck their trunks into one of the empty compartments. Mrs. Moon followed as they got situated into the compartment. "You don't have to put on your robes now, but it'll make it easier near the end of the trip." 

Carolina nodded. I'll put them on before we get there."

"Mine's in my backpack," Antigone said. "I'll—I'll do the same."

"Surely," Esmerelda said, grinning. "We'll see you off, of course, we'll be waving." 

Antigone nodded. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. _I'm on my way to Hogwarts._

*~*~*

Morag MacDougal walked up and down the corridor carrying his trunk with his cousin Miriam's help. Aunt Opaline, Miriam and he had gotten to King's Cross Station without any difficulty. His mother had not come—she had wanted to, but she couldn't afford to refuse the offer of extra hours work when the call came from her job—so his aunt was seeing them off by herself. Miriam had already tucked her trunk away in another compartment with two of her friends, and was just waiting for Morag to find a place. 

"Hurry up, Morag," she complained. "Your trunk's extremely heavy, and carrying it is no picnic." 

Morag ignored her and peeked into one of the compartments that didn't look as full as the others. He knocked on the door and it was slid open by a girl with thick curly auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and dark eyes that looked at him quizzically. Behind her he could see a large brown owl in a silver cage. "Yes?" she asked. 

"Is this compartment full?" he asked. 

She shook her head. "Come on in, there's only my friend and I. You'll fit." 

Morag let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks a lot." He motioned to Miriam, and they carried in his trunk and stowed it inside near the other two. Miriam went off to her friends, and Morag sat down on a bench on the opposite side of the cabin. The other girl inside was sitting meekly, holding a small black kitten on her lap. Her dark black hair was in a neat plait, and her skin was a pretty caramel brown. The auburn haired girl grinned at Morag. "I'm Carolina Kipley and this is Antigone Moon. We're first years. What about you?" 

Morag pushed back some of his hair from his eyes. "Me too. My name's Morag MacDougal." 

Carolina shook Morag's hand. "Nice to meet you." She looked out the window. "They're getting up steam. We'll be going soon. Come on, Antigone, put down Shadow and wave at your mum." 

Antigone set the tiny kitten on the floor and leaned out the window. Morag heard Carolina calling out loudly, "Bye, Papa! The train's about to leave!" Antigone's quieter voice called out to her mother behind Carolina's, and they both received calls back of "Have a good term!" and "Take care, honey!" There was a whistle, alerting that the train was about to pull off. Morag leaned over the both of them and saw a tall, brown haired man, a pretty black haired woman, and a petite black woman waving at Antigone and Carolina. He saw Aunt Opaline behind them and waved out the window himself, grinning. She waved back at him. Morag looked down the train and saw Miriam waving and calling out happily to her mother. The train started to pull off, and all three of them waved until the train turned a corner and the platform went out of sight.

"Are all those people in your family?" he asked just before they all sat down and Antigone picked up Shadow from where he was batting around a feather that had fallen from the owl's cage. 

"No," Carolina said. "The man's my father. The black lady is Antigone's mother, and the other lady is a Ministry official. She helped us get into Diagon Alley when we went shopping."

Morag looked at them confusedly. "You had a guide with you in Diagon Alley?"

"Of course," Carolina said.

"I didn't. I went with my mother, my cousin and my aunt."

"Well, we didn't know a thing about magic before we got our letters."

Antigone looked up from playing with Shadow. "We're Muggle-born witches," she whispered. _She must be awfully shy,_ Morag thought to himself. _Carolina seems to talk more than her—and louder too._

"Oh—I'm a half and half, I guess, My father was a wizard, but my mother's a Muggle. I wonder how many people starting this year have Muggle blood in them," he mused. 

"Probably a good number of us, if there is a Muggle-Born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office." Carolina remarked. "I wonder when the lunch cart comes around. Papa had me exchange some Muggle Money so I could buy lunch—I doubt I'll need many Muggle things here at Hogwarts." The owl opened one eye and looked at Morag, then hooted softly and went back to sleep. Carolina motioned up toward where she saw Morag was looking. "That's Nike, my owl. I heard that owls are used for mail and stuff. It sounds so interesting. Do you know anything about magic? Did your father tell you all about it?"

Morag looked a bit hurt. "My father's been dead since I was a little baby."

"Oh." Carolina looked highly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I just assumed—since you didn't have a guide with you in Diagon Alley"

"My aunt's a witch—she's my father's sister. And Miriam—she's my cousin, and this is her last year at Hogwarts. She's who helped me carry in my trunk."

"Oh," Antigone said. "I wondered who she was—she didn't look like a sister." 

"Nope, I'm an only child. What about you two?"

Carolina spoke up first. "I live with my father—my mother divorced him when I was about five and went to live in the States. At first I was going to live over there, but then Mum remarried and I decided to stay with my papa. I've got half brothers and sisters, but I've never seen them—they all live with Mum and her new husband. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen my mother in a few years; but Papa and I get along well. We live near the moors, way outside of London."

Antigone was a bit reluctant to speak. "I'm the oldest daughter—I have five little brothers and sisters. My mom and dad are—erm, they're currently separated." She blushed furiously in embarrassment. "I live pretty far from London, but not quite so far as Carolina." 

Morag looked out the window. "We're far out of London now. What time is it?"

Carolina looked at her watch. "It's a little past twelve. I wonder when the food's coming?" 

Just then there was a shuffling outside and the door was slid back by a dimpled woman. "Would you like anything off the cart?" she asked, smiling. 

The three stepped out and looked over the cart. There were all sorts of treats: pasties, thick sandwiches packed with meat, and various candies. "What would you recommend?" Morag asked the lady. 

"Ah, Muggle-borns!" she grinned. "You've never seen stuff like this, have you?"

All of them shook their heads. "The Cauldron Cakes are very good," she said, handing Morag some. "And I bet you'd like Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. Now when I say every flavor, I mean _every_ flavor. There are the good ones, like chocolate and cherry, but there are some in there like salad dressing and pocket lint." She held out a bag. "You can taste one if you wish."

"Those sound cool!" Carolina pulled out a white looking one before putting it in her mouth and chewing. "EW! Yuck!" She spit it out, making a face. "It tastes like school paste!"

The witch grinned. "I warned you-- every flavor. I also have pumpkin juice, pumpkin pasties, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum—it blows bubbles that won't pop for days—Chocolate Frogs, and Licorice Wands as well as some other stuff. Get whatever you want." 

The three looked all over the cart until they finally decided on a small stack of Cauldron Cakes, a sandwich each, and some iced pumpkin juice (On Morag's advice, Antigone bought and tasted a glass first, and informed Carolina that it wasn't too bad). Carolina bought some Every-Flavor Beans—despite her initial reaction—Antigone purchased a handful of Licorice Wands, and Morag got a goodly amount of the Chocolate Frogs. They each paid their share and settled down to eat. 

Through a mouthful of sandwich Carolina asked, "Want to try a bean?" She swallowed before continuing, as she held out a handful. "There's bound to be a few okay flavors in there."

Antigone looked at it suspiciously, then picked up a greenish one and chewed on it. "Grass," she announced. 

Morag took another, a purple one. "Mmmgrape."

Carolina tried another. "Hey, strawberry. Guess it's a take your chances type of thing."

*~*~*

Padma looked up from her book at the group that had assembled in her compartment, finished off a Chocolate Frog, and added the enclosed "Circe" card to her tote. It wasn't that she was antisocial, but now she was even further along in her book and didn't want to put it down. In the compartment were four additional persons who had come over from their cabin to visit and play around. Padma knew all but one of them from childhood.

Her parents had guests stay over whenever they had held dinner parties, so now she could place their faces easily, once they had seen one another. Terry Boot was a somewhat chubby wizard with large blue eyes and thick brown hair. Hannah Abbott had long blond hair she almost always wore in pigtails. Lisa Turpin was a tall, lanky blonde who was a half muggle—her father was muggle, but her mother was a witch, and both had come to functions the Patils held. She'd been the one who brought the Every Flavor Beans with her. Mandy Brocklehurst was the one she didn't know—a pretty Muggle-born girl with shortly clipped brown hair and green eyes that darted all around the cabin. She'd come in with Lisa—Lisa knew her parents through the Muggle parties she'd attended at times. (Padma remembered when Lisa had come back from a Muggle birthday party when she was seven and complained that there hadn't been anything useful in the noisemakers.) Parvati was the one who'd invited them to come over—Hannah and another girl, Susan Bones, had been in here. But Susan had gone to Terry's compartment instead. 

"Ew! Yuck!" Lisa Turpin gagged. "Earwax!" She looked as if she wanted to spit, but she swallowed the whole thing down before grabbing a chunk of chocolate and stuffing it in her mouth. "That was beastly!" she mumbled through the mouthful. The others giggled. 

Padma decided to join the group after finishing her next chapter and set her novel down. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"We're playing 'Guess The Flavor.' You pull out a bean, and everybody guesses what flavor. Whoever is closest to the truth gets to select the next bean." Lisa explained. "Whoever pulls it out has to eat it, however." she added with a grin. 

"And no spitting allowed." Terry added, "You have to pop it in, chew it all up, then swallow it, no matter what—of course, we do have a decent supply of chocolate to help get rid of bad tastes. We've gone through half a bag so far. Want to play?" 

Padma shrugged ."Might as well. Whose turn is it?" 

"Mine," Mandy said. "I guessed beeswax, and that's the closest. Everyone else thought it would be something tasty, like caramel or treacle tart." She reached into the bag and pulled out a pale blue and white speckled one. "Well?"

Hannah looked it over. She looked a bit confused. "Perhaps it's blueberry. I'll guess that."

"Blueberries aren't that blue, they're indigo. Plus, they aren't speckled." Terry gave it the once over. "I'll say that it's pocket lint. I've had pocket lint that color."

"Ew," Mandy gagged. "I won't eat it if it's pocket lint."

"You have to." Lisa was staring at it now. She finally looked up. "It looks like sea foam. Ocean water."

Parvati was still staring at it. "Bird feather. Like blue birds."

Padma looked at it carefully. _HmmI can't think of a food that would be that color. The only thing it reminds me of is the color of house paint. I'll go with that. _"House paint." 

Worried, Mandy gulped. "I wish you all had thought of better flavors than those." She tossed the bean into her mouth and began to chew. Immediately, she made a face. "It tastes like oil paints." She reached for chocolate as soon as she swallowed.

"Padma, you were closest. Your turn." Parvati poked her sister. "Go on, reach in."

Padma reached in and pulled out a white one. Immediately everyone had the same reply. "Toilet paper!"

"What?" Padma looked horrified. "Why that choice?"

"I got that one and it was toilet paper," Hannah nodded. "It was fairly gross. They all thought it was popcorn or maybe lotion." Everyone else nodded. "You're going to need the chocolate."

"No other choice then?" Everyone shook their heads. Padma sighed and started to eat the bean, expecting the taste of paper. It wasn't. "All wrong," she said, leaning back and chewing with a grin on her face. "It's vanilla pudding." 

"Nuts," Hannah said. "We were all wrong. That means you have to take another." 

"I do?" 

"Yes, none of us were close."

Padma sighed and was about to reach for another bean when a voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minute's time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." 

"No more time to play," Terry said as he, Lisa, and Mandy rose to their feet. "Later then? Padma, it's your turn." Padma nodded as the three left and Susan Bones returned. They all pulled off their jackets and pulled on their robes, and the train came to a stop as they all looked at each other nervously and joined the crowd in the corridor. 

*~*~*

Carolina held Antigone's hand as Morag held her own. Some inner voice had told them to stay together. The feel of a handclasp was somehow comforting. Antigone held Shadow tightly to her—she had refused to leave him on the train—and he was mewling plaintively as she kept a tight grip on him. The doors opened up and Carolina got a quick glimpse of a small dark platform before a group of older students stepped in front of them. She followed them and stepped onto the platform. The night air was freezing. Carolina wished her hands were free so she could pull her cloak a bit closer around her, but she didn't want to let go of the two hands she was holding. "Where do we go now?" she whispered. "Did your cousin tell you?"

Morag shook his head. "Miriam's headed off another way."

A large, booming voice called out over their heads. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Carolina turned to see a lantern bobbing over everyone's heads, held up by a hand that looked like it could cover her entire head. She followed the hand to the arm, up the arm to see a face covered in thick wild black hair. "Firs' years!" the voice boomed out again, and she saw that this man was its source. 

She pulled Morag and Antigone behind her, toward the enormous man. They shuffled through the crowd and found themselves surrounded by a bunch of students like them—with nervous faces and shuffling steps. Beside them stood a young girl with thick bushy hair and large front teeth, who was trying desperately not to look as nervous as the others. Carolina caught her eye and mouthed, "Don't be nervous." It seemed to calm her down a bit, and she let out a held breath that frosted in the air.

"C'mon, follow me! Any more firs' years?" The voice kept calling out loudly. "Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!" The lantern started to bob off, and Carolina let go of her friends' hands, who stayed right on her heels. They headed down a dark, steep path that was probably surrounded by thick trees—Carolina felt one brush her face and she shivered and pulled her robe tighter. Antigone hit a slick spot and fell with a shriek as Shadow yowled his disgust. Carolina caught her and lifted her to her feet as a wave of giggles broke out briefly. Carolina couldn't see it, but she knew Antigone was blushing furiously as she tried to brush off some of the dirt from her robes. "Yeh'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the same booming voice called out. "Jus' round this bend here." 

Carolina looked up and gasped just as a loud "Oooooh!" rippled through the crowd. The path was open to a large black glassy lake that didn't even ripple in the night wind. On the other side was a tall mountain that had a backdrop of glittering stars. On top of the mountain was an absolutely splendid castle with turrets and towers full of iridescent windows. "No more'n four to a boat!" the man called out, gesturing to a fleet of small boats that floated on the shoreline. Morag gulped and started to shiver.

"What is it?" Antigone asked, still holding tight to Shadow.

"I don't like boats," Morag sniffled.

"Oh," Carolina said, "It'll all be right. You can hold my hand if you wish." She heard snickering beside her and turned to see that same pale boy who had been walked past them when they had arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. This time he was flanked by two large, brutish boys. "Oh, sod off," she hissed, tempted to push him into the lake. He glared back and sounded as if he was going to say something, but Carolina turned away.

Antigone, Morag and Carolina boarded, along with a small brown haired boy who had to be helped in somewhat. "Everyone in?" the huge man shouted just as Carolina sat down. He was in a boat to himself. _Of course,_ Carolina thought to herself silently. _He's much too large to share a boat with someone._ He took a glance over the fleet. "Right then—FORWARD!"

Morag stiffened beside Carolina and dug his fingers into her arm as, all at once, the boats glided forward to a cliff. He kept his eyes shut the entire time, and looked as if he was going to be sick. Carolina, however, just stared at the beautiful castle, as it loomed closer and closer. She winced at Morag's grasp but didn't yelp. "Heads down!" the man called out as they reached the cliff. Carolina ducked and used her free hand to move away part of the ivy that brushed against her. The whole time, she kept her head down but her eyes open as they were carried through a dark tunnel. _We're probably right under the castle,_ she thought, as Morag whimpered beside her. Finally, the boat bumped against what sounded like a pebbly shore. Carolina shook Morag as Antigone and the other little boy climbed out. "You can let go now," she whispered. 

Morag let go and Carolina stepped out as the man checked out each boat. Shadow was still in Antigone's grasp; she had now wrapped him gently in a fold of her robe and he was silent. The only indication he was the lump in her jacket was his yellow eyes, glowing. The man inspected all the boats, returning a toad to a round faced boy. The group made their way up a passageway (this time Antigone didn't fall), the lamp leading the way. Finally they came out on smooth, slightly damp grass with the shadow of the castle falling over them. 

Carolina's mouth fell open. The castle looked even more impressive directly in front of her—she wanted to tilt her head backwards and stare up at the very top. The crowd was moving towards the stone steps and the huge oak front door, so she made do with quick glances at whatever she could see. 

"Everyone here?" the man asked, holding up his lantern carefully. "You there, you still got yer toad?" The boy nodded vigorously. The man turned, then raised a fist the size of two basketballs put together and knocked three times on the door. 

The door opened almost immediately, and a tall, black haired witch stood in front of them in pretty emerald green robes. Her look was stern, and Carolina blinked. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the man said, motioning over the group. 

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied stiffly. _So that's his name._ "I will take them from here." She opened the doors wider to reveal a entrance hall so wide that Carolina felt like she was being engulfed. Along the stone walls flaming torches lit the way, and when Carolina tilted her head up, she couldn't even see the ceiling. 

The group shuffled over the stone floor. "Pretty." Morag whispered. Carolina nodded agreement as she looked up the marble staircase. There were the sounds of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, most likely leading to a large hall. Carolina suspected they would enter that way until Professor McGonagall led them to a small empty chamber on the side. They all made it in, a little closer than Carolina would have liked. At the other end of the chamber a girl with hair clipped short was looking around, her head darting around like a bird. 

Professor McGonagall looked at all of them, her eyes stern. "Welcome to Hogwarts."


	3. Sorting

Chapter 3

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 3: Sorting  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** [][1]nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Author's Notes: Yes, once again I had to look at SS to get the chapter rolling. Trust me, after this there won't be any more paralleling, just mentions. Okay?

I subscribe to the small school line of thought when it comes to the number of Hogwarts students--only about 300 students. Yes, I know that JKR said there were about a thousand, but I'm not all too sure about that. 

Don't own this, don't own this, don't own this...

Thanks be to Haggridd and Madhuri for making sure I don't sound stupid as I write. 

*~*~*

Chapter 3  
Sorting

Morag stood quietly, looking at Professor McGonagall as she continued speaking. He felt a bit squished and was still wobbly from being on the boat. He really hated boats. 

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the great hall, you will be sorted into your houses. _Sorted?_ Morag though. _Sorted how? __We aren't expected to know any magic before we get here__ of course, else they would never invite people who were Muggles or half Muggles. But still_ He quit worrying and continued to listen, noting that Miriam had said some things about this to him when they first spoke about Hogwarts. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." _Miriam's inwhich one is it? Hufflepuff, that's it._ "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards." 

Morag was starting to get bored by this speech and quit paying attention, until he heard her say, "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school." Morag gulped. _In front of _everyone_? That sounds embarrassing! _

"I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." The stern Assistant Headmistress looked over the room, her eyes lingering on some of the students. Antigone, with little flakes of mud still of the hems of her robes, blushed a second and shook them off the best she could. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She left, and Morag let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"I wonder how they sort us?" Antigone made sure she held onto the now silent Shadow. 

"It's probably a lot simpler than we think, you know." Morag answered. They overheard voice mumbling something that sounded like spells. "I've heard of entrance exams and the like, but none of us knew any magic before we got here, right? They can't test us on what we don't know." 

"Right," Carolina nodded, "We shouldn't panic. We should all just stay calm and--" 

At that moment, several people screamed. All three startled, then turned to see a score of ghosts float through the back wall. Translucent and pearly, they glided over their heads in deep conversation with each other—almost as if they were arguing about something. It sounded like another of their group, Peeves, wasn't being allowed at the banquet. The trio whispered furiously to one another. _Why would ghosts want to be at a banquet? Can ghosts even eat? Maybe they came to watch the Sorting._

Morag kept completely silent when the ghosts started speaking. A tall lanky blonde girl looked like she was going to faint. "New students!" a fat little friar said, smiling warmly (as warmly as possible for a ghost). "About to be sorted, I suppose?" Some people nodded mutely. Carolina was one of them, Morag noted out of the corner of his eye. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know." 

Morag shook off his fright and was about to ask the ghost of a friar what the House was like (Miriam hadn't talked about it much) when a sharp voice broke the silence. "Move along now," Professor McGonagall announced. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." As she spoke the ghosts floated off through the wall opposite the one they came in. "Now form a line, and follow me." 

Morag got in line behind a girl of Indian descent, who looked exactly like the girl before her. Behind him stood Antigone, with Carolina behind her. They walked out of the chamber quietly, back across the hall and through a set of double doors into what could only be the Great Hall.

*~*~*

_Beautiful!_

It was the first word that popped into Padma's head. The hall was illuminated with thousands of candles that floated above all the tables to cast a soft glow. This is where the other students sat, quietly staring at them as they walked in. Padma shifted nervously. At the top of the hall in a higher place sat the teachers, and Professor McGonagall led them all to stand in front of this table in a line facing back out at the students. Ghosts hovered here and there, each with a faint silver shimmer. Padma looked at the head table to see a wizard with long silver hair wearing half moon glasses. Padma knew his face immediately, from her trading cards. _Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts._ She swallowed and turned back to face the front, where all the eyes stared at her. 

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, then set a frayed and very dirty wizard's hat on it. It had patches on its patches. As the hall became completely silent, Padma stared at it, wondering where she had seen that particular hat—until she recalled her reading of _Hogwarts, A History._ Just then one of the rips near the brim opened up and in a clear, bright voice, the hat started to sing. Its song was pretty basic; that nothing more complicated than putting on the Hat was how you got sorted into the houses; that the Gryffindors were brave and chivalrous, the Hufflepuffs strong steady workers, the Ravenclaws bright and clever, and the Slytherins ambitions and cunning. Everyone in the hall started clapping as the hat finished. 

Padma grinned as she clapped, glad she remembered her reading. Beside her Terry sighed in relief. "My older brother David wouldn't tell me what it was. He's so mean." He motioned to a boy who was sitting at the table second to the left, with hair like his but much taller. Padma remembered how he liked to zip around them with some of the older children at parties, playing pick up Quidditch with a children's set. 

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Professor McGonagall looked at the list. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Hannah stumbled out of line, blushing and moving her pigtails. Padma relaxed a bit. Alphabetical order was a great thing—she was always in the middle, right before Parvati. The hat fell right over Hannah's head, sat on there a moment, then screamed out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" She sat the hat down and shuffled off to the table on the right as its members cheered brightly. 

"Bones, Susan!"

A decent pause. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

Some consideration, as Terry shifted nervously under the hat. He seemed to shake his head a moment, then relaxed as the hat shrieked out, "RAVENCLAW!" This time the table that was second from the left burst into cheers and some of the Ravenclaws shook his hand. David, mussed his hair, grinning. Padma relaxed a bit as names were called. Her turn wouldn't be for a while. 

*~*~*

Carolina watched as one by one, people were sorted. Some only took moments—one girl, Atlantia Huckle, barely had the hat on before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!" Others took a very long time—one tall, thin boy with blonde hair named Andrew Dickson sat on the stool trembling for almost a minute before the hat sent him to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hutchins, Oliver!"

The little brown haired boy that had ridden in her boat across the lake shuffled forward, picked up the hat and sat on the stool. Hs head was almost swallowed by the hat, and his little legs dangled down as he sat there quietly. A moment, and then—"RAVENCLAW!" Oliver grinned as he removed the hat and placed it back on the stool before heading to the Ravenclaw table amid cheers. 

"Jemsin, Adrian!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Kamain, Alph!" 

Carolina saw a mean looking boy with evil looking green eyes step forward. He dropped the hat on his head, and almost immediately the hat screamed out, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Kipley, Carolina!"

Carolina blinked, then made her way forward. She reached over and dropped the hat over her head, closing her eyes as it fell over them. There was a moment of silence, then a little voice whispered, "HmmMy goodness, you're a super smart one. It stands out like a flash. There's almost no choice here, looks like you're gonna be a RAVENCLAW!" The hat shrieked out the last word to everyone, and Carolina lifted off the hat. She walked over to the Ravenclaw table, hearing all the cheers and claps for her, and grabbed a spare seat to sit down. 

Oliver grinned at her—he was sitting by her. "You're the one who helped me into the boat, yes?" he asked. Carolina nodded. "I was hoping that we'd be in the same House." He flashed her a grin that lit up the Great Hall. 

"Thank you." Carolina turned back to watch as "Lakely, Rita" was placed neatly in the Hufflepuff house.

*~*~*

"Longbottom, Neville!" 

A round faced boy stumbled forward and promptly fell over. His toad was almost squashed under him, but he threw out his hands and the toad only slid a bit. He climbed to his feet sheepishly and picked up his toad before sitting down on the stool and dropping the hat on. It was very long time before the hat made its choice: "GRYFFINDOR!" 

Neville hopped off as Professor McGonagall called out, "MacDougal, Morag!" He heard a few whispers from the head table and some of the older students, but thought little of it. 

Morag stepped forward, then saw the hat was not on the stool. He looked over at Neville as he scrambled for the Gryffindor table—he was still wearing the Hat. He bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh-- that would make the situation even more embarrassing.

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor McGonagall called out, looking at him sharply.

Neville stopped in his tracks, then looked around. "Oh—oh my," he whispered, then lifted the Sorting Hat off his head and jogged back as people giggled and laughed around him. He was blushing all the way to his ears as he set the hat in Morag's hands. "I'm sorry," he sniffled. 

"It's okay," Morag said gently before lifting the hat and placing it on his head. He saw Miriam wave at him from the Hufflepuff table and cross her fingers as the hat slipped over his eyes.

"Decent thing there, not laughing at Neville," the Hat said softly. 

_No trouble. I wouldn't want to be laughed at if I were in his situation._

"Let's seeyou're a brave onebut also bright, in equal proportions. Something like your father—I remember his sorting."

_My father? What about him?_

"Morag, I don't tell about other people. Only you."

_Ah. What about Miriam's house? Would I do well there?_

"No, you're not Hufflepuff material. Another house would be better for your learning. They aren't the brightest kids I put in there." 

_Thought so._

"Hmm...where should I put you? You could make great friends in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and expand yourself in either. What do you think?" 

_Oh, let me be with Carolina, she's such a nice person. I know, I can make new friends in Gryffindor, but we've just met, and we do get along so well. Plus, I would rather be known for being smart. _

"Hmmsmartness over bravery. Not a bad choice. Well, if that's what you want—you would like Gryffindor, you know, but as you asked—to RAVENCLAW!" 

Morag ran over to the table (first making sure that he left the hat) and smiling, plopped down beside Carolina. Morag introduced himself to Oliver, the boy sitting next to her, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "Hey, what took you so long?" Carolina smiled. 

Morag shook Oliver's hand and then looked at Carolina. "It was between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. So I asked to be with my friend." 

*~*~*

Antigone continued to hold Shadow in her arms as she watched Morag sit by Carolina. _I hope I'm bright enough to get into Ravenclaw too—I don't want to be in another house, I'd be lonely._ Beside her now the same pale boy who had passed them on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters stood, looking bored as "Macmillian, Ernie" sat on the stool. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hello."

If looks could kill, Antigone would have been the only first year in the history of Hogwarts to miss being Sorted because of sudden death. With a drawling, very cold voice, he replied, "I don't associate with mudbloods." Antigone was hurt. She didn't even know what a mudblood was, but it obviously wasn't a compliment. She bit her lip and held Shadow closer. 

"Malfoy, Draco!" The boy beside her swaggered forward and dropped the hat on his head. It barely got a chance to fall over his eyes before screaming, "SLYTHERIN!" He went to sit by the two hulking boys that had been near him earlier, smirking like a satisfied cat. 

"Moon, Antigone!"

Antigone made her way forward, still holding onto Shadow. She managed to drop the hat on her head while holding on to Shadow, who looked at her quizzically just before the hat covered her eyes in darkness. 

The same voice that had sang loudly now whispered to her. "First, I see a fair amount of bravery. Dear meyou have been through a lot to get here." There was a clucking sound, as if the hat felt a bit sorry for her. "That's a considerable thing to do, and very brave as well. You also seem like a loyal, honest person—a bit shy—there is the potential to be a wise little witch one day."

Antigone's shoulders slumped. _I'm not smart enough to be in Ravenclaw,_ she sniffled silently. 

"Hold on, miss, I didn't say you were stupid. I said you have potential. As a matter of fact, you would do well in any of the houses—excepting Slytherin. They wouldn't want you there, trust me." 

_But potential is not the same as brilliance. If my mind is the same as my heart, and heart is both bravery and loyalty, then that combined is more that what my mind alone is. _

"Potential is a lot better. You will expand and become a very brilliant person, once I put you in Ravenclaw. Listen to yourself—you're analyzing right now, and I haven't even placed you. Always ask before you're sure, that way you'll know. Remember that."

_O-okay._

"You might be brave, but your bravery won't get a challenge in Gryffindor. You may be loyal but, contrary to your thoughts, your mind can become stronger than your heart. So, Antigone, I am Sorting you into-- RAVENCLAW!"

Antigone gasped, pulling the hat off her head. She had actually made it into Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw table was cheering, welcoming her in, and Carolina was jumping up and down with Morag. As soon as Antigone was by them Carolina swept her up in a tight hug. 

Shadow, squished between them, meowed in protest.

*~*~*

"Patil, Padma!"

Padma ran forward and dropped the hat on her head, staring at the darkness. "Ah," the hat whispered. "A twin, yes? I hope you're not like those Weasley brothers—they're a wild set." 

Padma nodded. She had heard about the Weasleys—the whole family had flaming red hair. There was even one to be Sorted in her year—she'd seen the whole family at the station. It was known that they were not one of the more affluent families, and once or twice they had been to a Patil party with their brood. But Mrs. Weasley almost never held dinner parties—probably because they could barely afford to feed themselves sometimes. The Patils understood this and didn't hold it against them when they came over. 

"Your mind's rambling." The Sorting Hat sounded a bit lecturing. "You know, the idea is to think about where you want to go, not about other people."

_Sorry._

"Hmma right little bookworm here. You seem to love learning and thought, yes?" 

_Very much so, I want to learn about everything that's possible. Please let me go to Ravenclaw. _

"Well, then the choice is clear. Nowhere else but-- RAVENCLAW!" 

Padma replaced the hat, ran over to the Ravenclaw table, and sat by Mandy Brocklehurst, who still seemed awed by it all. She looked as if she felt much better having someone she knew from the Hogwarts express with her. Padma gently placed her hand on Mandy's, then watched as Parvati put on the hat. _Please, put her in Ravenclaw too._

There was a moment of silence, then the rip opened as the hat announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Padma gasped. Surely—surely her sister wanted to be with her. _Why'd the Hat separate us?_ Parvati took off the hat and went to the Gryffindor table, passing by her sister with an apologetic look and whispered, "Sorry—but I want to be a Gryffindor." Padma wanted to demand the hat reconsider—or at least, her sister reconsider—as her eyes filled with tears. But she knew that it was useless. Sighing, she looked at the table as "Perks, Sally-Ann" was called forward. 

One girl who sat across from her—with caramel skin and plaited black hair—tapped Padma's hand. "She's your sister?" she asked softly.

Padma nodded. "My twin. We've never been separated before this—she's never voluntarily wanted to be away from me."

The girl looked as if she was going to say something else, but settled with just squeezing Padma's hand with a small smile of friendship on her face. 

"Potter, Harry!" 

Padma's eyes widened at the name, and she climbed up on the bench on her knees to get a better look at the boy as he walked up to the stool. He appeared much as she had remembered from the few pictures in her copy of _Modern Magical History_-- of course, he was much older than the one year old boy in the pictures. He was small and skinny, with wild black hair that was all over the place. Bright green eyes peered out from behind round glasses held together with a lot of scotch tape. _He's actually very cute._ Padma strained to find it-- the lightning bolt scar that was on his forehead. She didn't see it before he placed the hat on his head and it sank over his eyes. 

"What's so special about him, Morag?" an auburn haired girl whispered to the boy beside her. 

"I looked in one of Aunt Opaline's history books—apparently that's the person who defeated Voldemort when he was one year old," Morag shivered, "And the book said Voldemort was a horrible dark wizard." 

Padma startled, and the boy beside the two shoved Morag. "Don't say that! Don't name him!" both of them hissed in fright.

"Hmm?" Mandy asked, noticing the conversation from her spot.

Their conversation was cut off just as the hat shouted out to the hall. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Padma snapped her fingers disappointedly as the Gryffindor table burst into the loudest cheers that anyone had gotten. One of the older Weasleys—there was no mistaking that red hair—shook his hand tightly and excitedly, and the two Weasley twins practically shouted to the enchanted ceiling. Padma took a quick glance at Parvati, who was shouting as loud as anyone at the Gryffindor table. _Guess she's definitely over the separation already,_ she sulked silently. McGonagall waited until the cheers died down some, then called out, "Ranston, Robin!"

Morag and his friend turned back to Padma and the other little boy. "What was that you said, Oliver?" 

"Don't say You-Know-Who's name!"

"Who?" The girl blinked confusedly. "Are you saying don't say Volde—mmph!" For just then Padma had reached across the table and forcibly placed her hands over the girl's mouth. She struggled, as "Rogers, Joseph" joined their table and sat down, overlooking the struggle with mixed amusement and shock. He was a skinny boy, like Harry, but his skin was pale honey brown and his eyes were a dark hazel-green. 

"What's going on here?" he asked, sitting beside Padma. 

Padma turned and the girl managed to pry off Padma's hand. "She almost said You-Know-Who's name!" 

*~*~*

Antigone looked at Padma blankly. "Um, Padma?" She mumbled, a bit unsure of the girl's name. _Was she Parvati or Padma?_

The girl turned to her now. "Yes—um, what's your name? You didn't tell me." _Good, it's Padma._

"Antigone Moon." Shadow meowed, as if confirming what his mistress said. "Um--why'd you cover Carolina's mouth when she said that name?" She felt stupid asking, but if you didn't ask when you didn't know, then you'd never know—that's what the Hat had said. "You see, Morag's been raised by his Muggle mum, and Carolina and I are Muggle-born. So we don't know why not to say his name." 

"Well, you just don't. Many families lost people in the first era when he came to power. One of the girls Sorted into Hufflepuff—Susan Bones—lost both her grandparents and all of her big brothers and sisters. The only reason she's alive is because she was a baby and her mother and father had to keep her at home that night." She pointed out a girl with mousy brown hair.

Carolina blinked. "Oh—okay, then. I won't say it." They all turned to see that only four people had to be Sorted. "Thomas, Dean," was quickly placed in Gryffindor. Lisa Turpin, a tall, lanky blond girl was placed at their table, and she grinned as she sat down by Mandy. 

"Weasley, Ronald!" 

Antigone watched the tall, red headed boy step forward, pale green as he put on the Hat. She noticed that there were three other redheaded freckled boys at the Gryffindor table. _Those must be his brothers. But that doesn't mean he'll be with his family. Like Padma. _"GRYFFINDOR!" The boy that they had said was the famous Harry Potter clapped loud as he could as the boy sat down. After the last person was made a Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled her scroll up neatly and put the Hat and stool away before taking her place at the head table. 

A man with long silver hair and half moon glasses rose to his feet, his arms held open as if he was hugging them all. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words." He paused. "And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He smiled. "Thank you!" He sat back down, and Antigone giggled while others clapped and cheered. 

"He's silly," she said softly. 

"Silly? He's the best damn wizard in the world!" Padma looked indignant. 

"Even so, he's got a sense of humor." Antigone grinned just before the just before the large platters in front of her filled with all sorts of food.

*~*~*

Carolina grabbed a lamb chop, several scoops of green beans, a spoonful of broccoli and rice, and a wheat roll before setting her plate in front of her and starting to eat. Padma got everything but the meat. She announced, "I don't eat meat." When Carolina looked at her plate confusedly. 

"Can you eat _proper_ that way?" Lisa mumbled through a mouthful of roast chicken.

"I've done it for years. No one in my family eats meat, other than fish. There's none on the table though" Just then a platter of hot smoked salmon appeared. Padma blinked. 

"There is now." Morag grabbed one of the fish and started to cut it up on his plate. 

"Enjoying yourselves, dears?" a soft voice said. Carolina looked up, seeing a tall witch with long, neatly braided hair hover near them. She looked like she came from the middle ages—under her robes Carolina noticed very simple slippers and a simple homespun dress. Carolina nodded, not being afraid of the ghosts much now. "I'm the Grey Lady—Ravenclaw's resident ghost. My full name was Felicity Elizabeth Angelica Greyfourde when I was alive, but that's a bit long, so I'm just called the Grey Lady now. Not quite as exciting a sobriquet as 'the Bloody Baron'," she pointed out an evil-looking ghost wearing robes stained all over with silver blood, sitting at the Slytherin table—"or as embarrassing an epithet as 'Nearly Headless Nick'." She nodded her head towards a ghost who, just as Carolina looked, grabbed his left ear and pulled his head off his shoulders so that it fell on his shoulder. "When they beheaded him, they didn't do it right." 

Carolina nodded, pushing her plate away and picking up her roll to finish it. She wasn't quite full, but was always a dessert course at a banquet, and dessert was her favorite part. "Well, how'd you die?" 

"Dragon. It came through my fields, long ago. This was before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy so I and the others in the village that were witches and wizards ran out with our wands at the ready to subdue it and get it to go away. I almost had it, but then it turned and roasted me like a turkey." The Grey Lady shrugged. "Anyway, here's dessert. Go on."

Carolina turned to see the plates were all clean, and in the center sat every type of dessert she could think of. Carolina filled a bowl with vanilla pudding and dug in while the others conversed. Shadow was asleep in Antigone's lap while she delicately ate strawberries dunked in cream. Carolina took a drink of the iced pumpkin juice and listened to the conversations around her. Padma was explaining some of the things about the wizard world, with help from Terry, Lisa, and Oliver. Right now, she was explaining moving pictures. "I'd show you, but I left all my things on the train—before we go to bed, I'll show you a few of my trading cards and things." Padma finished off a doughnut. "I've got a lot of them—some doubles, if you want to start collecting or trade with me." 

Morag reached in his jeans pocket. "I think I have Merlin with me. I got it in a Chocolate Frog." He pulled out the card and held it up, and Carolina recognized the picture that had looked at them seriously, though not at all fiercely. Merlin was leaning on the frame of the picture, looking quite disturbed by being shown off like an oddment. "Yes, that's it!" Padma pointed at the card and Merlin shot her a look as she did so. "See?"

Mandy nodded, nibbling on grapes. "How do they move like that?"

"They're developed in a special potion, which makes the pictures move. If any of you have a Muggle camera or something and you like developing pictures, then I'm sure that you can make them move." 

"I do," Carolina said.

A pretty Asian girl with shoulder length dark hair looked up from her ice cream. "Muggle-born?" Carolina nodded. "My name's Cho Chang. I'm a second year. I have some of that solution to develop pictures—tell you what, I'll show you how to develop them. I find Muggle photography interesting; it's my favorite thing other than Quidditch." 

"Quidditch? What's that?" 

"Oh, that's right, you've never heard of Quidditch. It's a sport—do you like sports?"

"I like to watch them."

"Oh, it's a delight to watch—there's four balls and seven players, all on broomsticks, and three goal posts. I can explain it better when we have the tryouts. First years aren't allowed to play, because you can't bring your own brooms to school and some of you don't know how to fly at all. I'm going to try out this year. Maybe I'll make Chaser." 

A boy next to Cho with violet eyes and reddish-gold hair stepped in. "You talking to the first years?" he asked. 

"Yes, Lawrence." She tapped Carolina. "This is Carolina Kipley—she's Muggle-born." 

"Ah, cool!" Lawrence took her hand. "Name's Lawrence Hillbourgh—wizard-born, myself, but fascinated with Muggles and their things. Do you guys really have lights that don't work on fire? Electricity, I was told it's called. And batteries too—ooo! You have a Muggle watch!" He took Carolina's hand and looked at her watch. "It won't work here on the Hogwarts grounds, of course. See, it stopped long ago. I'm sure I can find you another watch, one that runs on magic--they make them. We third years are allowed to go into Hogsmeade on trips—if you have some spare money, I'll buy you one." 

"Thanks." Carolina smiled. Lawrence leaned and asked about the others at the table—he raised an eyebrow when he heard Morag's last name but said nothing. Carolina found him very friendly and intelligent. He even tickled Shadow under the chin and made him purr, which made Antigone smile. "You'll like the Ravenclaw house. We stay up at night, discussing things and being creative—you should see our common room, it's covered in projects and things. Of course, it's not right now because we haven't started on this year's designs. All the members of that year get together and make their area look however they want. We decorate for the holidays too, and the year that gets the highest vote gets a special gift from the others. You'll love the room once you see it."

"They'll see it in a few minutes," a girl with long curly hair said, placing down her spoon. "The Headmaster's about to speak to us." 

"Who's that?" Morag asked Lawrence as the girl turned back around.

"Penelope Clearwater, a fourth year. She's very smart." Lawrence leaned over to whisper. "She's a bit of a wet blanket at times—doesn't like to rock things much." 

"Shh!" Penelope hissed. "Professor Dumbledore's about to talk."

"Oh, don't get your knickers all knotted up," Lawrence teased. "I'm not a first year."

"You're only a third."

"You're only a fourth." 

It sounded like they were going to bicker more, but the desserts disappeared and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall went silent. 

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered." Carolina tuned most of it out—she had held a few cookies and was munching on them. 

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." Cho's eyes danced at the announcement. 

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"Hmm," Lawrence said. "Well, we'll do as he says. No use mussing the pond water when the mud's settled."

"What do you think the reason is?" Terry asked. 

"Whatever it is, it's none of our business," Penelope cut in. Lawrence made a face at her. 

"And now," Professor Dumbledore finished up, "before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Lawrence and Cho groaned, and Carolina noticed even the teachers looked chagrined behind their smiles. 

"What's so bad about this?" Lisa asked. 

"Now, everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" Dumbledore started to sing.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts"

"That's what's so bad," Lawrence hissed as the school broke out in a bellowing song. 

Carolina winced, slamming her hands over her ears in the cacophony as everyone sang in different pitches, tunes, speeds, and howls. She noticed that one section of the Ravenclaw table was in perfect pitch with each other as they sang the same tune. They were tuned out considerably by the others, but still very nice. Finally, the only ones left were the redheaded twins at the Gryffindor table who sang as if the School Song were a funeral march. Once they finished, everyone clapped (with Professor Dumbledore clapping the loudest). Carolina uncovered her ears just in time to hear, "And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" 

The Ravenclaws all rose to their feet in groups, and a tall boy with neat glasses and a silver badge pinned to his chest with a _P_ on it rose and motioned. There were seven people who all had these badges, and they motioned for all the Ravenclaws to follow them. As they headed up and down stairs and under different tapestries, whispering and chatting, Carolina saw Antigone tap Lawrence on the shoulder. "Lawrence?" she asked meekly. 

What is it, Antigone?" He turned to face her as they walked through a sliding panel. 

"I've been meaning to ask you older kids since I sat down, but it just came back to my mind."

"Yes?" 

"Well, when I was standing waiting to get sorted, one boy named Draco Malfoy was rather nasty to me. When I tried to say hello, he told me that he didn't associate with mudbloods."

The older students stopped dead in their tracks, and the prefect next to them had to call sharply to make them continue walking forward. "He called you what?" Cho said furiously. "Why that swotty little brat—stupid Malfoys, I knew he was one the second I saw him."

"A mudblood," Carolina repeated. "Is that the same one who was at the platform when we got on the express?" Antigone nodded, looking like she wanted to cry. Carolina looked a bit frightened. "Did—did Antigone say something nasty? Is it like You-Know-Who?"

"I'm sorry, I only wanted to know the meaning." Antigone looked at her feet.

"No, it's not as bad as You-Know-Who, but still fairly nasty. Don't feel bad, you didn't know." She placed a hand on Antigone's shoulder. " Mudblood' is a really degrading term for people born that have two Muggle parents, like you two. The Malfoys and a lot like them look down on anyone who's not a pure-blood—in other words, only wizard blood." 

Lawrence sighed. "In Ravenclaw, that problem's not really here. We try to achieve to be better than that. Slytherin, on the other hand—well, You-Know-Who was in there. But enough said about that, we're almost to Ravenclaw Corners." 

"Raven-what?" Terry asked.

"Ravenclaw Corners. It's what we call our place." 

The prefect beside them—a girl with short blonde hair—leaned over. "Now, the password's a bit long this time, but it's only till we change it later. It's 'Si Hoc Legere Posses, Nimium Eruditionis Habes.' Latin for if you can read this, you're overeducated.' " She kept leading them forward, until they made it to a large tapestry with various letters, symbols, and colors woven into it, as well as picture of the Greek goddess Athena. The prefect tapped on the tapestry twice, and Athena turned and whispered, "Password?" 

"'Si Hoc Legere Posses, Nimium Eruditionis Habes," she answered calmly.

The letters shifted back into place, then the tapestry slid over to one side to reveal a rather nice wooden door. Everyone walked in and they got a first look at Ravenclaw Corners.

   [1]: mailto:nethilia@yahoo.com



	4. Ravenclaw Corners

Chapter 4: 

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 3: Sorting  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** [][1]nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Author's Notes: I hate this chapter, it feels too short to me, I only got eight pages in Word. Meh, oh well, I'll write more the next chapter, let's call this one yummy filler. 

Again, I reiterate that though most of the Ravenclaws are my creation, the world they live in isn't.

As per usual, credit and kudos to the best beta readers a ficcer could have, Haggridd and Madhuri.

*~*~*

Chapter 4:   
Ravenclaw Corners

For Padma Patil, the first thing of note was the shape of the large Common Room that was Ravenclaw Corners. There were ten walls set in a circle, with two doors in each except for the wall through whose large double doors they had entered. Between each pair of doors were set tables with padded benches along either side. Above, blue candles in simple bronze sconces cast the light. A fire blazed in the center of the room on a stone platform surrounded by a low metal grate. Scattered around the room were padded chairs, footstools, settees and little occasional tables. 

"For every pair of doors," the prefect explained, "the witches' dormitories are on the left and the wizards' dormitories are on the right. The First Year dorms are located opposite the main entrance. The Witches' Bathroom is directly to the left, counterclockwise, and the Wizards' Bathroom to the right, clockwise. So, proceeding clockwise you have the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Years, the main entrance, then Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Years, back to the Witches' Bathroom. Have you all got that?" The prefect witch looked at her watch-- a magic watch, Padma noted, not like Carolina's-- and said, "It's late. Breakfast comes early tomorrow. You can stay up if you want, but I suggest you all get to bed." 

Antigone yawned. "I'll just go to bed, I'm too tired to talk." Lisa nodded as well. 

"I'm going to stay up a bit," Padma said. 

"I'll stay up with you." Carolina was wide awake; everything was new and exciting. "Let's go change into our pajamas first. We can look at the dorms and find which beds are ours." While the boys went right to their own dorms, the girls headed left. Just beyond the door sat five tall four-poster beds, each enveloped by deep blue silk curtains. Their trunks had been carried up and neatly placed at the foot of each. Padma opened hers to take out her nightgown, while Carolina fished out her pajamas. They changed and left the dormitory to sit in the Common Room, leaving the other three witches to sleep undisturbed. Padma had brought her trading cards to show Carolina, who was clearly fascinated as she viewed all of them. Padma pointed out some of her favorites: Agrippa, Morgana, Merlin-- who wasn't in his picture at the moment-- and Hippolyta. 

"How long have you been collecting these?" Carolina was reading the back of the Cassandra card as she spoke. 

"Since I was about seven years old. I have a lot of duplicates, because I like to trade. I'm only missing three or four. My sister used to collect them, but she gave me all hers when she tired of it." She sighed to herself. "I wonder what Parvati's doing now—or if she can even sleep."

"You've shared a room your whole life?" 

Padma nodded. "We've always been together, since we were little babies. Probably the longest time we were apart was the ten minutes I had to wait before she was born. We always played together, roomed together—we've never even slept in a room without each other."

"Oh. I've always been by myself, mind. Just me and Papa in this snug little house on the moors. Most of Papa's friends thought he was mad to take on raising a little girl all by himself. But I turned out okay, I guess. On the moors my neighbors were so far away, and a lot of them didn't have kids my age or who liked to do what I did. They thought I was a bit odd, you know, because I liked to read and learn, as well as play around in dirt and things. Most of them didn't like to do either."

Padma nodded. "When Parvati and I were younger, we loved to play together. We also used to do accidental magic—things like making the flowers change colors when we held them and stuff like that. Once Parvati got hold of Father's wand when she shouldn't have been playing with it and almost burned down the kitchen. We were only four, but she got punished severely. Did you do anything unusual when you were little?" 

Carolina looked thoughtful. "There's only one thing I remember that was odd to me—I was about five years old, and it was a warm summer evening. I was playing outside near the porch where Papa could see me. He was on the telephone, and he didn't see what happened. Suddenly I heard this deep frightening growling. I turned and saw this giant dog snarling at me, like he was going to rip me apart. One minute I was standing there, tremblingthe next, I was hanging half off our roof, screaming my head off while the dog barked and snapped at me. Papa scared him off finally, by throwing scalding hot dishwater at him. But to this day I don't know how I got on the roof."

"Do you think it was a werewolf? They do exist you know." 

Carolina looked surprized to find out that werewolves were real. "No, I remember it being somewhat darker out because the moon wasn't full. It was a normal wild dog." Carolina yawned. "Let's go to bed now, we can talk tomorrow."

Padma picked up her Wizard Card Album. They walked to the dorm and climbed into bed. Just as Padma's head touched her pillow, Carolina spoke. "Where do they keep the owls? I noticed that Nike isn't here. I suppose there's a place for her." 

"Probably in the Owlery-- we'll go look for it tomorrow. I need to send a Hogwarts owl to Mother-- if she hasn't sent me one first on Amazon. I didn't get my own owl. We just have one for the family, but we don't need more than one. Amazon is still young and hearty for her age." 

"Okay." Padma heard Carolina yawn again. "Goodnight, Padma."

" Night, Carolina."

*~*~*

"What's our class today?" Oliver asked Morag as he pulled on his robes. It was the first day of classes, and everyone in Morag's dorm was getting ready. Lawrence Hillbourgh had volunteered to show all the first years the way back to the Main Hall for breakfast. He'd pounded on the door at seven o' clock, startling Morag into tumbling out of bed and tangling himself in the bed curtains.

"Lawrence said the schedule is posted by the main doors." Oliver ducked out as Morag tied his sneakers and memorized the timetable before walking back in the dorm. "Charms and Herbology in the morning, and History of Magic this afternoon. We can probably return to the dorm after lunch and get our things for History of Magic." Morag reached for his tote bag, his copies of _The Standard Book of Spells_ and _One Hundred Magical Herbs and Fungi_, and wand (eleven inches, beech and dragon heartstring) as well as several rolls of parchment and quills. He'd been practicing at home over the summer and could now write fairly neatly with one. He stepped out with the rest of the boys to see Lawrence and the witches already standing there. Carolina looked like she wanted to jump up and down. 

"Hey, Antigone, where's Shadow?" Morag asked her as Lawrence led them out the doors. 

"I left him in the dorms, he's still asleep." Antigone shifted her backpack to her other hand—she was carrying it by the straps instead of over her shoulder and was the only one of the group carrying one. 

Breakfast was interrupted many times by lots of owls flying to the Great hall to make deliveries. Afterwards, all the First Years rose and went to go find the Charms classroom. It took quite a while, because some doors weren't true doors and things kept moving around. One staircase moved to point the other way just as they all had made it on, which scared little Oliver Hutchins quite a bit. They finally managed to get to the Charms classroom and take their seats. A tiny man with a large shock of white hair stood on a stack of books behind his desk.

"My name is Professor Flitwick. As you may already know, I'm the Head of Ravenclaw House as well as the Charms teacher." He quickly called the roll, then held out his wand. "You'll be learning various charms in this class which are the bases for many more complicated spells." He pointed his wand at Lisa's inkwell. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The inkwell shot straight up and hovered about a foot off the desk. Morag looked impressed. With another spell, Professor Flitwick set the inkwell down. "Of course, we won't be doing that immediately. First we will learn the basic mechanics of holding one's wand to move things while they are on stable surfaces. Does anyone know the spell for moving stationary objects?" 

Morag raised his hand. He'd read over one of his books this morning. Flitwick motioned at him. "Yes, Mr. MacDougal?"

"It's 'Movova!' sir." He pronounced it as best he could.

"Excellent! Five points for Ravenclaw. First I'll show you, then you may practice. Don't expect to get it right the first time, of course. " Professor Flitwick pointed at one of the books on his table. "Movova!" The book slid neatly across the desk as he moved his wand back and forth. "Now, you won't be allowed to move books quite yet. For now I want you practice with these buttons. Just practice till you can move them back and forth with your wand. Just a quick flick for now. Once you can move them, then we'll try fluid moving." 

Morag looked at the button in front of him. He bit his bottom lip and then held out his wand. "Movova!" he spoke clearly, flicking his wrist sharply. The button sat there. Scowling, he tried again. The entire class seemed to be annoyed with their motionless buttons. Antigone looked as if she was going to cry as she sat there moving her wand, but not her button. Morag patted her hand. "You're trying a bit too hard. Don't stutter." 

Antigone nodded. She stared at her button, then spoke clearly, flicking the wand with her right hand. "Movova!" Morag noticed she seemed to be having trouble holding her wand. 

"Antigone, are you left handed?" he asked. 

"Ambidextrous actually."

"Which hand did you use when you first got your wand? Which hand was holding it?"

"The left."

"Then use that one. Let's try at the same time." 

Antigone switched hands, holding the wand in her left. "Movova!" they both said together with a sharp flick of their wrists. The buttons both moved jerkily and clicked into each other audibly.

"Ah, has someone done it?" Professor Flitwick made his way to Antigone from Oliver's seat. 

"We both did, Professor." Morag said. 

"Splendid! Do it again, if you don't mind, first individually, then together."

Morag went first, flicking his wand and moving his button neatly. Antigone did the same, clearly surprised. Finally, working together, they made the buttons move apart. 

"Good! Very good!" Flitwick clapped. "Ten points each for Ravenclaw. Class dismissed." He looked at Morag cheerily as they packed up to go. "You know, your father was good with charms too. I remember having him in my class. Knew him well." 

"You know about my father? I don't even remember him." 

Flitwick looked a bit compassionate. "You mother didn't tell you about him? She's Muggle, yes?"

"Yes she is, sir. She told me nothing, other than the fact he died right before I was born. She didn't like to talk about him much."

"I'll tell you what. I advise you to start asking around about him. Almost all the teachers who were here at the time remember your father well. See if you don't learn something new about your dad every week. He was very well known in the wizarding world-- trust me, you may be surprised at what you find out."

Morag nodded, feeling odd at the prospect of learning what Professor Flitwick might know. He picked up his tote and headed out to follow the others. 

*~*~*

"Argh." Carolina groaned as she and rest of the Ravenclaws left History of Magic that Wednesday. Most of them looked all too grateful to leave—this had been their second time to the class and no one liked it. "Professor Binns's class had to be the most boring thing I've ever sat through. Herbology was better than that—and I don't even like plants!" 

"Well, we can't expect much from a ghost for a professor." Padma pointed out. 

"At least that was the last class of the day. No more classes today, we can go study in our common room." Carolina looked at her parchment scroll, which was spotted with blotches. "I should have practiced writing with quills—my notes are a mess. Who would have thought you had to learn all about history and things?" 

"I guess it's that those who do not know the past are condemned to repeat it,' idea."

"Goblin rebellions and troll outbreaks are not the stuff that dreams are made of. And he never ever gives us points. I'm glad I'm doing so very well in Transfiguration—I almost have my match into a needle, Professor McGonagall is very proud of me. She gave Ravenclaw ten points for it." 

"You're the only one making such good progress." Padma, being near the head of the group, reached and tickled the door in front of them to make it open. It shivered as if giggling and then swung open to reveal a staircase. "The most I could do was get my match a little bit shiny."

"You seem to make up for Transfiguration by doing good in Astronomy. Professor Sinistra is always giving you points. "One might think you were her favorite. Sometimes I wonder if Binns even knows that we're there." 

"At least Professor Binns doesn't notice when we sleep in class," Oliver spoke up.

"Like you were?" Carolina teased. 

Oliver appeared as if he was going to say something else, but was cut off when a wastepaper basket fell on his head and splattered him with trash. The group's attention was drawn to the sight of a little man wearing a Fool's cap and bells with an orange bowtie cackling hysterically while Oliver looked disgusted. "OoooI got an Ickle Firstie!" he squealed.

Carolina scowled as the other first years huddled together. Carolina knew this was probably some type of ghost, but she hadn't seen him before. "Come on guys, let's keep going towards the rooms. We can't go down to dinner until we get Oliver all cleaned up." She marched forward towards the common room, but was blocked as the poltergeist darted in front of her. 

"Nothing doing, Firstie," he snapped, throwing handfuls of trash at all of them. 

Carolina brought her arms in front of her face to block the trash. She would have thrown it back, but she assumed it would have probably gone right through him. Behind her Mandy was shrieking and trying to duck the assault.

"PEEVES!" The Grey Lady's voice rang out as she came soaring down the hall and stopped in front of the group. "Leave them alone!"

"I was just having fun with the Firsties, your Ladyship." Peeves continued to fling more things. 

"I'm warning you, Peeves" 

Peeves blew a raspberry. 

"I will call the Bloody Baron, Peeves. Would you rather have _him_ deal with you?" 

Peeves snarled and zoomed off through the left wall. The Grey Lady turned to the others and let out a sigh. "Peeves is our resident poltergeist. The only person than can control him is the Baron, annoyingly enough." She clucked her tongue at Oliver. "Poor dear, you'll have to clean that up before you go to dinner tonight. I'll see you later, dears." She floated off towards the Great Hall. 

Oliver sighed. "Now I have to have this robe washed and take a long bath before dinner." 

Carolina helped pick little bits of trash out of Oliver's hair as they walked on. "Well, we don't mind waiting for you, do we, guys?" The others nodded. 

*~*~*

Antigone loved being at Hogwarts. There was nothing more exciting to her than watching the owls zoom in over breakfast and deliver mail to the students. She hadn't gotten any yet, but Carolina's father had quickly understood the mechanics of owl post over the summer with Nike and had recently sent Carolina a package of candies from her favorite Muggle candy store. She always shared with all the first years, and the wizard-borns were fascinated by lemon drops, and jelly beans that never held unpleasant flavors. 

She'd been doing very well so far in classes. Charms was Antigone's favorite class, and she excelled wonderfully—she and Morag almost always were first to get a new spell to work, and Professor Flitwick had begun to have them demonstrate to the class, from time to time. On Wednesday nights Professor Sinistra had them monitor the stars through telescopes along with the Gryffindors. She had once shared a telescope with Harry Potter and discovered that he wasn't all that high and mighty about himself—just a young boy who didn't know a lot about magic himself, and, at times, he struggled just as much as she did. She'd held a small conversation with him, but not much of one. (She still didn't understand what all the fuss was about.) History of Magic bored her, as Professor Binns lectured monotonously, but she still managed to learn what she needed to know. Defense Against the Dark Arts was almost pointless though—Professor Quirrell, a pale young wizard with who wore a dark purple turban, seemed to avoid the topic altogether whenever a student spoke about it. Afterwards Antigone's robes reeked of garlic due to the thick ropes of it hanging all over the room and it took a half hour to wash the smell out of her hair. 

Herbology with the Slytherins was a pain, but not because of the teacher. Professor Sprout was very nice and patient, a short little witch with flyaway grey hair and dirty fingernails. She almost always gave them hands-on work with the different plants. The problem she had was with the Slytherins themselves, who always made smart remarks and insulted anyone who wasn't one of them. The worst incident in class had been when she and Terry Boot were paired with two Slytherins to help replant one of the baby prickleback bushes. Blaise Zabini had purposely let one of the fragile seedlings go flying at her face, and she had pulled her hands up just in time to avoid getting her eyes gouged out. It had sliced her hand open though, and she bled all over the potting soil while the Slytherins snickered meanly. Blaise had received two detentions for it, which made Antigone feel a little better, and Madame Pomfrey (the school nurse) had healed her hand up neatly, which made her feel a whole lot better. 

She couldn't get the hang of Transfiguration, though. Professor McGonagall had given them a stern lecture on how serious the subject was. She had impressed them by turning her desk into a pig and then back, but there was no chance that any of them would be allowed near something so complicated yet. There had been notes upon notes, and then they were given the task of turning matches into needles. The only one who had made any change the first class was Carolina, who had at least made the match turn a bit silver. By Friday she could do it perfectly, and Professor McGonagall had favored her with a small smile and a "Well done, Miss Kipley, ten points for Ravenclaw." 

The worst class was probably Potions. Lawrence Hillbourgh, the Third Year, had told Antigone that Professor Snape, Housemaster for Slytherin, favored his house above all others, and Lawrence had been dead on. Snape would insult both the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs, and would find any excuse to dock points. So far she had been very good and rarely made mistakes. Once the rest of the class figured this out, they made sure they had a potion down and did everything perfectly and silently, speaking to Professor Snape only when he spoke first. The Hufflepuffs hadn't quite picked up on the strategy though, and so they almost always got on Snape's bad side. Snape loathed that he almost never found an excuse to dock the first year Ravenclaws, and made up for it by docking Cho Chang's second year Potions class every time they stepped out of line. Cho had complained about it at night when they were all in the common room and found it very unfair.

It had been a week since the start of term when Antigone got a very nasty shock. 

At Saturday morning breakfast, a school owl swooped down and dropped a letter right on top of her cream of wheat. She noticed it was from Esmerelda before she ripped it open and read the small note scrawled on Ministry parchment: 

> > "Antigone, I need to see you immediately. You need to come home right away, it is highly important. Something major involving your mother has come up. I have informed the Headmaster, the Deputy Headmistress and your Housemaster, Professor Flitwick, and they all understand the circumstances. Your Housemaster will escort you to Hogsmeade Station, where I will pick you up. It will just be overnight. You will be back in time for classes Monday. No reply is required; report to Professor Flitwick once you have received this owl." 

Esmerelda had signed at the bottom in bright violet ink. 

Antigone's eyes widened. Ignoring the rest of her breakfast, she took off to Ravenclaw Corners amid the surprised looks of her fellow first years and a concerned look from Lawrence. She rummaged through her trunk, stuffing two outfits and various necessities in her backpack along with her wand, homework and _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ before she made the trek up to Flitwick's seventh floor office. She didn't even have to rap on the door. Professor Flitwick had left it open and was waiting in a neat blue traveling cloak. "Are you ready to go, Miss Moon?" He asked with concern as she entered the office, the note gripped tightly in her hand. 

"Has Esme-- I mean Miss Toners-- told you anything about why I have to go home?" _Please don't let him have hurt her_

He shook his head. ..."I am sorry to say that she has not." He pulled out a pocket watch (a magical one, Antigone noticed absently) and nodded. "We should leave now so we'll get there in time." 

Antigone nodded, her eyes welling up. Silently she followed Professor Flitwick down the stairs and corridors towards the entrance. Antigone was in a daze of fear and apprehension; she merely trailed behind, scribbling out a note half-heartedly until they had made it to Hogsmeade and to the rail station. Esmerelda was standing there, with thick purple robes on over her Muggle clothing. The letters "M.B.W.W.L.O." were stitched on neatly on the left side, so Antigone guessed they were Ministry Uniform robes. She looked exhausted, as if she'd spent the night awake. ..."Thank you, professor," she said softly, "I'll take over from here." 

Just as Professor Flitwick was turning to leave, Antigone called him. "Yes?" he replied in his squeaky voice. 

Antigone pressed a small note into his hand. "Can you give this to Carolina Kipley? I don't want her to worry about me while I'm gone." He nodded sagely and then left in the same carriage that had brought them.

Esmerelda took Antigone's hand. "I hate to pull you out of classes, but your mother—she asked for you, she won't talk to me much, and your aunt's hysterical herself—what with all that happened, I wouldn't be surprised."

"What happened?" Antigone looked at Esmerelda terrified. "Diddid Daddy go to my aunt's house?" 

Esmerelda nodded, then hugged Antigone as she burst into tears. 

*~*~*

Carolina was very worried when Antigone hadn't returned after her sudden exit from breakfast. She had just read her letter and taken off, without even so much as a whisper. Even stranger was that Antigone hadn't been seen. She quickly finished her toast and then ran to Ravenclaw Corners. She must have just missed Antigone, because her trunk was open and her backpack missing. Carolina noted that one of Antigone's textbooks and her homework rolls were also missing as she put Antigone's things away—wherever she had gone, she had left in a rush. Shadow meowed as she walked in, but he didn't follow her out. 

Morag, Padma, Cho and Lawrence caught up with Carolina as she came out of the dormitory and into the common room. "Where's Antigone?" Morag asked worriedly. 

"I don't know." 

"Where do you think she went?" Cho asked, looking concerned. Carolina realized that Cho too had become friends with Antigone. She looked as frightened as the first years. 

Lawrence muttered, deep in thought. "I can remember no time they ever removed a student from the Hogwarts grounds before. I can't think of any reason—Antigone has done nothing to warrant expulsion—she's practically a model student." 

"The worst she did was to lose five points in Potions, but that was an accident, and Snape is just vindictive that way." Carolina was past scared and approaching terrified. _Where did she go? What happened that would have called her off the grounds? Unless...could it be a problem in her family?_ _I don't think everything's right with her family, but it would be rude beyond belief to suspect what's not there_

"Miss Kipley?" Carolina turned to see Professor Flitwick walk in. He barely came up to her shoulder, he was so little. 

"Yes, Professor?" 

He held out a note. "Miss Moon wanted me to give this to you. She had to go home for a family emergency. "

Carolina whimpered like she'd been kicked. "What kind of family emergency?"

"I wasn't told, Miss Kipley, but an official in Ministry Uniform robes was at Hogsmeade Station to take charge of her." 

"Was she a witch with long black hair and distinctively Muggle clothing?" Flitwick nodded. Carolina waited until he had departed before speaking again. "I know her, that's Esmerelda—she helped us in Diagon Alley, she works for the Muggle-born Wizard and Witch Liaison Office. Why would she be here for Antigone?" 

"Read the note," Padma said, poking at it. 

Carolina unrolled it and started reading the rushed handwriting. "Sorry for the rush in leaving, but Esmerelda's letter told me I had to leave this morning and go straight home. Something about Mummy came up. I don't want to tell you yet, but I will once I can. Don't worry, I'll be home on Sunday night. Watch out for Shadow, I'll owl you if I can. Antigone." 

"Well, we know she's okay," Morag said. "But what's wrong with her mother?"

"I don't know," Carolina said. She sat down on one of the footstools, still holding the note. _But I'm definitely worried._

*~*~*

Padma was right shocked when Carolina told them that Antigone had left the school grounds after breakfast and hadn't been seen since that sudden departure. As the others came in and saw she was missing, Carolina explained that Antigone would be gone for the weekend on family business. This had calmed the others down, but not Padma and Morag. The other First Years gathered at the table in front of their dorm and debated how best to personalize their assigned personal wall, but the three sought out stools and arranged them around an occasional table as they pretended to do their Herbology homework. 

Morag was the first to speak. "Let's get right to it," he said. "Are you two worried about Antigone as well, or am I the only one?"

"Of course I'm worried," Carolina said. "I've been worried since I first met her—she's withdrawn, and very timid." 

"I noticed that too," Padma said, chewing her bottom lip. She thought that Antigone was more than simply timid, though-- in her opinion, Antigone was downright terrified of adults. But she kept that to herself. "She almost never argues or talks back—not even when Professor Snape grilled her for accidentally tipping the cauldron over in class and splattering his robes with unfinished boil remover wherever it touched." Padma giggled a bit. "Although it was hilarious when his robes erupted into little blue spots wherever the touched." They all laughed at the memory, then quickly sobered. "But y'know... she just stood there with tears running down her face, stammering an apology as she wiped the table, like being yelled at was _normal_." She scribbled something on her homework as a group of fifth years walked by, then spoke again. "At least she didn't mess up like Neville Longbottom over in Gryffindor. He completely ruined a cauldron and broke out all over in boils. 

"After a while even Snape didn't have the heart to keep complaining. Antigone did nothing but accept the abuse he doled out at her. So she lost only five points for the whole episode-- Cho lost five times more when she dropped a vial on the floor and set the tables on fire in her Potions Class."

Morag nodded. "It's almost creepy, the way she takes things—when things go wrong, she immediately takes the blame." He chewed on a peppermint thoughtfully, sharing them with Padma. Padma had taken a liking to these—they didn't turn your tongue colors or let you spit purple, but as Muggle sweets went, they were delicious. 

Carolina made sure that no one was eavesdropping, then whispered. "You two didn't see what I saw. When I first met her, Antigone's mother was wearing sunglasses, and I could see a bruise under them. I think she had a black eye, or at least a healing one." 

Padma blinked. "She didn't get that healed immediately? It would only make sense to do that." 

Morag shook his head. "There's nothing like mediwizards with us Muggles. We get hurt and we just have to tough it out." 

Padma could have kicked herself. Antigone learned things so quickly that Padma sometimes forgot that her friend was in fact Muggle-born. 

"But how would her mother get a black eye? Unless—" Padma looked at Morag and Carolina shocked. "You—you don't mean? Do Muggle couples do that to one another?" 

Morag's expression was grim. "Someone socked her, for sure. We won't press Antigone at all about what happened, it's not respectful. We'll let her tell her friends in her own time. I do think that there is something going on in her family that Antigone doesn't want to tell us about right at this moment."

   [1]: mailto:nethilia@yahoo.com



	5. Flying and Sport

Chapter 5

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 5: Flying and Sport  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** [][1]nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Author's Notes: Now this a good long chapter, with a bit of teaser. Very nice, and now my Ravenclaws learn about Quidditch ^.^. This would have been out sooner, but with school and stuff, I had to step back and do class writing first.

As we should know, this is not my playground, it's JKR's. I just like to play on the swings. 

Haggridd and Madhuri, thank you for making sure this is worth reading by others and the mistakes aren't *too* obvious.

*~*~*

Chapter 5  
Flying and Sport

Carolina had stayed up late to work on an essay for History of Magic that she had put off until the last minute, sitting in front of the first year dorms clad in her pajamas, comfy fuzzy slippers, and her robe, and sipping a cup of hot cocoa. It was very late, so everyone else was in bed. As she was writing the last two inches of parchment, the door to Ravenclaw Corners opened and Antigone walked in. _She looks like she's been through hell. _

Antigone's eyes were still red-rimmed, and she sniffled as she pulled off her cloak, which was a different one from the one she had left Hogwarts in. Her robes underneath were somewhat rumpled, as if she had slept in them. It was fairly clear that she looked like she was trying to forget something very bad. "Hello, Antigone," Carolina called out, setting down her essay. 

Antigone started at the sound, spinning to face Carolina with widened eyes. "W-what are you doing awake?" she stammered. "It's almost after one in the morning, I thought everyone would be asleep." 

Carolina held up her roll. "Finishing up an essay." She motioned Antigone to sit by her. "Antigone, are you okay?"

Antigone looked like she desperately wanted to run. "O-of course I'm fine. What would make you think otherwise?" 

"The fact that you took off Saturday morning without so much as a something's come up' and didn't return until now." 

"I gave Professor Flitwick a note to give to you." 

"I got the note, but it didn't help my worries much. I still spent the weekend frantic." She took Antigone's hand in her own. "What's going on with your mother that would pull you off the grounds?"

Antigone looked at her feet. "I don't want to talk about it." 

"Antigone, nothing gets solved if you don't talk about it."

"Everything's all right now. Esmerelda handled the situation. She shouldn't need to come get me anymore."

"I just want to make you feel better, and I can only help if I know what's happening."

"I'll be okay, Carolina. It's nothing you should have to worry about. It's my problem." 

"Don't you trust me enough to let me help?" 

"Of course I do, Carolina." 

"Then why won't you..." Carolina let the words die before she finished them. _She really is shaken up about this._

Antigone looked up at Carolina miserably. "Please, Carolina," Antigone sounded like a whipped little puppy. "My weekend has been hard enough on me, and I barely got any sleep last night. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I really don't want to talk about it right now. Just let me go to bed." She looked like she was going to cry. 

Carolina sighed. She let go of Antigone's hand and watched as she walked towards their dorm. Then she turned back and finished writing the last inch. It didn't take too long. She gathered her things and walked into the dorm. Antigone had pulled off her robes and dropped them on the floor before climbing into bed. She silently pulled back Antigone's bed curtains and saw her curled up on top of the sheets, fast asleep. She hadn't even pulled the blanket over herself or changed out of her clothes. Carolina covered her up and placed a gentle hand on Antigone's shoulder. _I wish you were brave enough to tell me what's wrong._

*~*~*

Padma grinned broadly Tuesday afternoon as she and the rest of the First Years all headed out to the Quidditch pitch. On Monday a notice had been tacked up announcing that they were starting flying lessons with the Hufflepuffs on Tuesday. The reactions ranged from absolute delight—Andrew Dickson had chirped that he'd been looking forward to flying since they'd gotten there—to absolute horror. Mandy Brocklehurst had admitted she was terrified of heights and the last thing she wanted was to be suspended in the air with nothing to keep her from falling other than a stick of wood and some twigs. There had also been the announcement that the current Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies, was holding tryouts for anyone second year and above on Saturday. Cho had gone out Monday evening and came back sweaty, announcing she'd been practicing her handling while flying.

Padma had wanted to get on a broom ever since she had left home. Her father still had his old broom from his days at Hogwarts and had shown her some of the basics of flying, though he had never let her go higher than his shoulders and kept a firm hand on the handle the whole time. Now she would get to fly alone. She looked up at the clear sky. _I'll be up there soon enough_

The Hufflepuffs arrived at about the same time as the Ravenclaws. The field was completely clear other than for the school brooms laid out in a row. Madame Hooch wasn't too far behind. She had short grey hair and a whistle around her neck. Her sharp yellow eyes scanned the class as she called the roll. "Go on, everyone stand by a broom," she barked out when she was done, and everyone scrambled for a broom. Padma found herself by Antigone and Ernie Macmillan in Hufflepuff. 

"Now, hold your right hand over your broom and say, Up!' clearly and confidently." 

Antigone raised her hand. "Um, Madame Hooch?" she whispered, looking at her feet.

"Yes? Is this important?" 

"Wouldn't it be somewhat more effective to hold my left hand over the broom? I'm—I'm left handed, and I'm probably not the only one." 

Madame Hooch nodded. Madame Hooch nodded. "Of course. All lefties proceed to the far right of the line so you don't bump into the others." Antigone, Andrew Dickson, and Justin Finch-Fletchley all shifted to the left end of the line, and now Padma found herself standing by Mandy. Once everyone had gotten back into place, Madame Hooch repeated, "Now, hold your right or left hand over the broom and say, Up!'"

"UP!" went the chorus. Padma's, Justin's and Morag's brooms each flew into their owner's hands. They were the only ones that did. Most of the brooms just lay there on the field. Carolina's had lifted up off the ground but fell back down, and Mandy's had sat there defiantly. It took about twenty minutes before everyone got their brooms up in unison. 

"Now, mount your brooms. You just swing yourself on, very neatly, so you don't fall off the end." Madame Hooch demonstrated, then one by one each student did so, and no one fell off. "Grip the handle firmly but not too tight. Make sure your dominant hand is below the other one, the steering hand. This is very important: when you fly one-handed, you must keep your steering hand on the broom." She walked about correcting grips before returning to her own broom. 

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick up from the ground and rise a few feet. Descend by tilting your handle down. One—two—three!" She blew hard on her whistle and the group took off. They all flew in varied arcs, then landed one by one. Padma made sure she landed on her feet and only stumbled a bit, but a few people made crash landings. Antigone almost fell backwards, and Mandy (who had only gone up enough to let her feet leave the ground) slipped on a spot of damp grass, spilled off her broom and tumbled end over end. Over and over they took off, flying a bit higher each time, until everyone of the group could land on their feet. 

Finally, Madame Hooch kicked up herself. "We're going to fly around the field. Kick up." She kicked up neatly from the ground and went up pretty high. The rest of the class kicked off, but hovered at various heights. Mandy once again was not very far from the ground, and she wasn't the only one—the only person who had gone as high as Madame Hooch was Morag, who looked pretty calm up there. 

"Come on, into the air," Madame Hooch ordered. "You have to get as high as I am." Mandy whimpered and Antigone looked scared. Madame Hooch patiently waited until they all were at the same level, ignoring Mandy's whimpering. "Keep the length of a broomstick between you, and follow my lead. Single file." She started off, and the students streamed behind her around the field. 

_I must be at least ten feet up,_ Padma thought. At times her broom veered to the left, but she made sure to hold it on course so she wouldn't crash into anything or anyone. In front of her, she saw Mandy start to relax, not looking at the ground, but still whispering, "I want to get down now, I want to get down now." 

For almost thirty minutes the class made lazy circles around and around, and flew in various directions learning how to turn gently (and remain steady during the turn) until Madame Hooch announced, "Line up in the air now, just as you did on the ground." They all obeyed and Madame Hooch hovered before the class. "You've done verey well, class. Twenty points each to your houses. We're only at about fifteen feet. This is the highest you are allowed to go for today. Now, just practice flying. The rest of class is free flight. Don't get too close to each other or go too fast, and make sure you don't crash into the ground or go higher than this. And no Quidditch moves or fancy showing off or you'll find yourself in detention if not the hospital wing. I will be up in the air watching you." She tilted her broom and went up about five more feet. 

Slowly everyone separated. Padma dropped to the ground and practiced landing and taking off. Above her she saw Morag flying lazily around at a constant height, steering very well all the while. "He's a natural," she whispered to herself as she pulled up to about ten feet. 

"I know," Antigone said. She had pulled up beside Padma. Though her hands gripped a lot tighter than Madame Hooch had suggested, she seemed to hold on well. 

"Are you still as scared?"

"Not as scared—I still think that this isn't the safest method of travel, but it's so..." Antigone paused, looking for the right word. 

"Breathtaking?" Padma prompted. 

Antigone looked around, taking in the sight of the lake and Hogwarts. "Yes," she whispered. "Breathtaking." 

*~*~*

Morag hated when flying class was over. He hadn't wanted to get off his broom. He loved being in the air, flying around on his own. It was almost natural to him-- even though this was the first time he'd ever flown in his life-- but it still felt like _déjà vu._ Perhaps his father had been a good flyer. Once class ended, he decided to speak to Madame Hooch to see if she knew anything about his father. Sending the rest of his friends along without him, he waited until everyone else had left. Madame Hooch was picking up the brooms and heading towards the shed to put them away when she saw him standing there. "Yes, Mr. MacDougal?" she asked. "Do you need something?" 

"I just wanted to ask you if you knew anything about my father. I spoke to Professor Flitwick last week and he told me that chances were that most of the teachers knew him, and I felt almost kind of—well, natural flying up there. I was hoping you knew about his flying ability." 

"Who was your father?" She looked interested.

"Geoffrey MacDougal. He died when I was a baby. My mother's a Muggle, and she didn't tell me anything about him."

"Hmm" Madame Hooch's brow furrowed in thought. "I remember him. He was an instinctive flyer. He was a reserve on his house Quidditch team until his sixth year, when he made permanent Chaser. Geoffrey wasn't all that good at it, from my professional point of view. He tended to play it solitary and fly solo without passing to his teammates. Then again, most of the players on the Slytherin Quidditch team didn't have to be good at the sport. They got on because of whom they knew"

Morag cut Madame Hooch off. "Slytherin? My father was in Slytherin?" 

"Yes, I clearly recall that he was a Slytherin, which is why I was quite surprised when I saw that you were a Ravenclaw. You look quite a bit like him-- except for the hair. You've got your mother's hair; Geoff had thick red hair. You and Geoff have the same eyes, only he himself rarely looked a person directly in the eyes. The few times he did, his gaze could be quite piercing. Not much got by Geoff-- had he been lighter he would have made a great Seeker. His lack of teamwork wouldn't have hurt him at that position. That is the best I can recall, to be honest—I didn't see much of him after he graduated. Not many people did."

"Thank you, Madame Hooch. That's all I wanted to know for the moment." 

"If anything else comes to mind later, ask me. I only saw your father when refereeing the Quidditch matches between houses, but I do remember a lot from those matches."

Morag nodded his thanks and made his way up to the castle. He didn't go back to Ravenclaw Corners, however, but headed straight to the library. Madame Pince, the librarian, noticed his entrance, but seeing that he was a Ravenclaw, said nothing else. Ravenclaws were in and out of the library so frequently (studying as well as reading for enjoyment) that sometimes other houses jokingly called it the Ravenclaw's second Common Room. Digging around in his tote bag, he pulled out his copy of _Magic Drafts and Potions_ and pretended to study. No one came up to him—a Ravenclaw disturbed from studying was not a happy Ravenclaw. As he sat there, the thoughts turned over in his head. 

Shocked didn't even begin to describe his feelings at learning that his father had been a Slytherin. Slytherins were known to be mean and nasty to anybody not a Slytherin. Once one had tripped him in the hall when the teachers weren't looking and almost made him drop his inkwell. Even the girl Slytherins looked unpleasant. Some were pretty enough, but they walked around with sneers that made them look like they were big trouble. 

Morag had been highly upset with every single one of them since the incident in Herbology, and never passed one without a cold remark. He'd always had a temper when pushed—even when little—and everyone who knew him had noted that Morag could make almost anyone back off if they got him enraged or picked on someone he cared about. There wasn't a first year who didn't know about the incident in the hall before dinner a few days ago. A First Year Slytherin named Alph Kamain had made a rude gesture at Carolina. Morag had promptly snarled that if Alph didn't want to find himself choking on his fingers after he stuffed them down his throat—without any help from a wand—he'd better apologize. He'd lost three points for the Ravenclaws when Professor Quirrell heard him, but he didn't care about points. Carolina had looked so embarrassed at the time, and Alph had been made to apologize, even though it was clear that he didn't mean it. 

No one outside of Slytherin liked a Slytherin. Even the Hufflepuffs, who were kind to everyone, were known to make disparaging remarks about Snape and his students. According to Aunt Opaline's books, Voldemort himself, the greatest Dark Wizard of the times—so evil that people never spoke his name—had come from that House. 

His father—he had beenone of _them_? 

*~*~*

Antigone stood and watched as Professor Snape inspected her bruise healing potion. She hoped she had stirred it properly and had added the right number of unicorn hairs-- she and Carolinas had used four strands, but she suspected that was too few. She ducked her head under his cold gaze and waited nervously as he took a dropper and dipped it into the watery pink solution. _I hope it's right_

Snape's cold drawling voice cut through her thoughts. "Miss Moon, how much unicorn hair did you add to the solution?" 

Antigone looked up, her eyes wide. "Sir?"

"I said, Miss Moon, how much unicorn hair did you add to this solution?"

"F-four hairs." 

"And how many are you supposed to add?" 

Antigone gulped. "Four?"

Professor Snape sneered. "No, Miss Moon. You do not add four hairs. You add two. Any more than two unicorn hairs in this solution will cause a very nasty effect." He held up his dropper. "You get an type of caustic solution, which, should it make contact on wood, causes a undesired reaction." He dropped some of the solution on the table and Antigone watched helplessly as the wood turned into powder, leaving a neat hole and sawdust on her feet.

Antigone whimpered. The rest of the class sat silent. Even Carolina, who sat beside Antigone, looked nervous. _Why does he always pick on me?_ She meekly pointed at her notes. "Professor Snape, you told the whole class to add four hairs two minutes after the lacewings." 

Snape didn't even glance at her notes. "It is two hairs after four minutes." 

"Then you must have made a mistake." The words were out of her mouth before she realized it. 

Snape shot Antigone a cold glare. "I do not make mistakes, Miss Moon."

"Professor Snape, my notes say the same thing," Lisa Turpin spoke up meekly. Every Ravenclaw nodded. "And I know I took accurate notes. We can't all have gotten it wrong, sir." 

Snape picked up Carolina's notes and glared at them. "Very well. A point for each student too careless to take proper notes will be deducted from his or her House—ten from Ravenclaw and ten from Hufflepuff." The bell then rang. The Ravenclaws quickly picked up their things, cleaned up and cleared out.

"Ten points because he misspoke!" Morag fumed as they left. "That's unfair!" His voice didn't carry the force it normally held when he talked about a Slytherin who'd wronged him (and Morag had gotten the reputation of being a pain to every Slytherin that brushed his robes, excepting Professor Snape) but Antigone thought nothing of it.

"Snape is unfair, in case you haven't noticed," Padma said resignedly. "Antigone, didn't you read about the potency of a unicorn hair in potions? I did, but I just thought Snape knew better than the book, since the formula wasn't fully laid out in the text. I didn't have time to go do a cross reference in another book." 

"I was going to this weekend," Antigone replied. "But I forgot." 

"Speaking of your weekend at home," Padma asked, "is your mother okay?" 

Antigone's throat locked up, and she didn't answer Padma. The picture flashed in her head as she said thather mother's face in bandages, her left arm in a cast, and her soft voice barely able to be heard as tears squeezed out from the tightly swollen eyelids. Antigone's face scrunched up in pain, and she swallowed tightly, looking at the floor. Esmerelda had rushed her to the Muggle hospital, where her mother had just been checked in, and they had spent the night there before her mother had been discharged.

"Antigone, your mother's not okay else she wouldn't have had you picked up," Morag cut in. 

Antigone whimpered. "I don't want to think about my mother's condition." 

"Condition? What kind of condition? Is she in a hospital?" Carolina blurted out her questions rapidly. "Did she hurt herself in a car accident or something?"

"It was only a little accident" Antigone blurted out before she caught herself. _Oh my god, I should have kept quietif they ever find out what kind of accident _She clamped her mouth shut and pretended to be very interested in a stain on the wall. Carolina's eyes took on a look of concern. Padma looked shocked, and Morag looked as if he didn't believe her completely. But they didn't ask any further, and Antigone didn't speak anymore. 

When they made it back to Ravenclaw Corners, Antigone headed into the dorm by herself and sat on her bed, with Shadow asleep on her pillow. Carolina looked like she wanted to follow, but Padma stopped her with a touch on her shoulder. Antigone pulled her bed curtains tight, grabbed her pillow, and silently started to cry. She hated lying to her friends, keeping secrets and only telling half truths. They should know why she had to leave, they should know about her family and what she was going through simply because she was a witch. They all seemed concerned—honest concern, not the false concern she had dealt with before she had come to Hogwarts—but they wouldn't understand why she had been so secretive. They hadn't grown up in the kind of family she had. When you were a Moon, you were taught from a young age that you kept your family problems to yourself. You kept your face washed and your skirts pressed and your mouth shut like a good daughter. Only when nobody else was around but you and your mother could you cry, quietly. 

Shadow brushed up against her, almost as if he was trying to calm her.

*~*~*~*

On Friday at lunch Parvati passed a note to her sister from the Gryffindor table, written in the pink ink she had bought, and with her trademark heart-dotted i's. Only Parvati dotted her i's with hearts. "Wanna chat? If so, look over here and nod, then meet me by the big stairwell in the Great Hall before dinner." Padma looked over and caught Parvati's eye, then nodded and stuffed the note in her pocket, before continuing to eat. 

"Who's it from?" Antigone asked, munching on her chicken. 

"My sister, Parvati. She wants to meet me just before dinner."

"Oh, could I go with you? I'd like to meet her." 

"Sure, she didn't say to come alone. I was just about to ask you if you wanted to go with me." 

Antigone smiled. "Thanks."

When they had gotten out of afternoon classes, the two headed to the big marble stairwell with their book bags (or, in Antigone's case, her backpack) still over their over their shoulders. Parvati was leaning against the railing and chatting about something that sounded very important with a witch who had long blond hair down to her back. Padma noted that she too had the Gryffindor patch on her clothes. Her face looked familiar, but she couldn't place the witch's name. 

"Padma!" Parvati called out, waving her over. She pointed out the girl she was speaking to. "This is Lavender Brown, she's in my house." Lavender smiled politely. "Who's with you?" 

"Antigone Moon," Antigone spoke up, dropping her backpack on the stairs. 

Parvati wrinkled her nose, which Padma knew meant that she was thinking, and not a sign of disgust as it seemed at first glance. "You don't sound familiar."

"I'm Muggle born."

"Oh, that's why. When Padma and I were little we only played with wizard borns and half Muggles. Not out of segregation or anything like that, it's just that our mother and father only knew a few Muggles." 

"And they were all married to witches or wizards," Padma added. "So. What was it you wanted to talk about?" 

"At first I was just going to ask you how your classes were going, who've you made friends with, and how much you hate Snape's class—things like that. But something absolutely stunning happened today—we had flying lessons yesterday you know." 

"With the Slytherins." Lavender made a face. 

"Anyway, Neville broke his wrist; he kicked off when he shouldn't have and fell off-- he's absolutely uncoordinated if you ask me. Madame Hooch had to take him to the hospital wing, and while she was gone that dreadful Malfoy prat found out Neville had dropped his Remembrall—it's a little thing that turns red when you squeeze it if you've forgotten something you should do. Well, Draco took off on his broom because he was going to toss it in a tree and Harry followed him"

Padma cut her sister off. "Harry Potter? You hadn't even flown yet, and he had never been on a broom! He was raised by Muggles!"

"I know," Lavender chirped, "but he took off like a rocket—like he'd been born to fly. It sure startled Draco, especially when Harry dived at him. First he tossed the Remembrall as high as he could so it would break. They were fifty feet high, and anything made of glass would have shattered even if only dropped from that height. Then Draco dived for the ground like a little chicken." 

"And?" Antigone replied.

Harry dived after the Remembrall!" Parvati squealed. "He streaked straight for the ground and caught it with his right hand only a foot off the ground. It was frightening, we thought he was going to break his neck, but he just tumbled back onto the ground like nothing had just happened."

"Then Professor McGonagall caught him. We all tried to explain what happened but she just took him off. We were sure he would be expelled, of course." 

"Well, since I saw him at breakfast, I'm guessing he wasn't," Padma replied. Parvati had always had an inclination to gossip, and though Padma noted what she heard if it was important, she very rarely repeated it if it wasn't. "So why'd she'd take him off?"

"He's been put on the _house team_," Lavender and Parvati said in unison. "McGonagall made him Seeker!"

"Seeker?" Antigone blinked. "Isn't that a position in Quidditch or something?" She turned to Padma. "Cho's been chirping about it all week since Ravenclaw tryouts are tomorrow." 

"Yes, it's the most prestigious position one can have on a team." Padma looked at Parvati. "But you can't be serious. There hasn't been a first year on house team since 1872."

Well, Harry's the Gryffindor Seeker, and he didn't have to try out or anything! The last seeker just graduated, and I've heard that the reserve Seeker's not that good anyway. Tryouts for our house were held Wednesday and there wasn't a decent Seeker in the bunch. Oliver Wood practically had a fit of joy when McGonagall presented him with Harry." Parvati leaned back, grinning. 

"He's so lucky," Lavender said softly. "I'm so glad he got placed in our house."

Padma nodded. _But he wasn't sorted into my house._

*~*~*

Carolina wasn't in the mood to study early Saturday morning. Though she was a very studious witch, Saturday mornings were her time off. If she were home she would be up watching television, but of course there were no televisions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so she was content to read a book Padma had lent her. Cho and Lawrence were both trying out for the house team at noon, and had invited any first year who wanted to come see the tryouts. Padma wasn't going, opting instead to study and to help the other first years with wall design. Antigone, Morag and Carolina were all going, however, as was Joseph Rogers, the tall wizard who, save his coloring and his eyes, bore a passing resemblance to Harry Potter. 

"I'm not Muggle born, myself," he said as they all headed towards the field. Cho and Lawrence had been out very early to practice in the morning hours, and so had stayed on the field. "Only half, through my mother—like Morag. I spent my childhood in the wizarding world after my parents divorced and my father got custody of me, my big brother—who'd just started at Hogwarts—and my little sisters. I was only three, I haven't had a day in my life where it wasn't obvious what our heritage was, though I do like Muggle things and know how they work.

"I'd try out for the team myself, but that rule forbidding first years to have their own brooms is totally unfair. We can fly well enough within first month of classes. Once Quidditch games start in November they don't even teach flying anymore. But no! No first years are allowed to bring their own brooms, so we have to stay off the team." 

"What about Harry Potter?" Carolina asked. Padma had retold the story to all the Ravenclaw first years, determining that this wasn't going to stay a secret anyways and thus wasn't gossip. Lawrence had backed her up after hearing it from the Ravenclaw Team captain, Roger Davies. 

"Oh, him." Joseph snorted a bit. "If you ask me, I think he's getting special treatment since the Gryffindors haven't had anything worth counting as a Seeker since my older brother Mark was here. The last time Gryffindor won the house Quidditch Cup was when he and Charlie Weasley played for their house team. Mark's just turned nineteen and helps raise griffins over near Athens. It's so unfair! I have Mark's old Cleansweep at home and can't bring it till next year."

The four of them sat in the stands on the field just as Roger Davies, the team Captain, blew a whistle to catch the players' attention. He was a tall, handsome fourth year boy who kept his straight black hair clipped neat. With him was a strong looking sixth year that Joseph identified as one of the current Beaters and another fourth year boy who was the current Keeper. He announced the main positions that needed filling were two primary Chasers, a reserve Seeker, both a reserve and primary Beater and reserve Keeper. First to try out was the Chasers, then Beaters, and finally Seekers and Keepers. Roger blew his whistle again and all the potential Chasers soared up. Cho was at the head of the pack, and Roger went after them carrying a scarlet ball the size of a soccer ball. 

"What's that ball he's got?" Antigone asked as the students flew around, passing the ball back and forth. 

"It's called the Quaffle," Joseph replied. "It's only for scoring. Chasers throw the Quaffle back and forth among one another and try to get it through the hoops at the end." He pointed out where the current Keeper was flying back and forth in front of the hoops. "That one's the Keeper, his job's to keep the Quaffle out of the goals. Every Quaffle through is worth ten points."

"Like every goal in soccer is worth one," Carolina mused. "And the goal posts are like the net, and the Keeper's a goalie."

Joseph looked confused for a moment. Then he nodded. "Oh, yes, the Muggle sport. I've played it once in a while, but most of the wizard kids I knew never understood the fun of it. I've been told I'm very good at soccer— Dean Thomas in Gryffindor brought his ball here with him and Mandy and I have been known to play a game with him. So do Lisa and Justin from Hufflepuff. Not quite enough for a three on three, however." 

"I'm not an excellent player," Morag spoke up, "but I'm decent enough if you want to have someone else."

"That'd be good, Dean tried to talk his dormmates into it but none of them were too keen on it. The Weasley kid—you know, the one hanging around Harry Potter?—keeps poking his poster of West Ham and trying to make the players move."

It was awhile before the potential Chasers dropped back to the ground. Cho looked sweaty and a bit nervous. She waved at Carolina, who waved back. So did Joseph, then pointed at the next group who had already gone up and was swinging around bats at two black balls. "The Beaters are the next players, and there's two of them. They don't handle the Quaffle, mind. Their job is to stop the Bludgers from hitting their team and aim them at the other team. See those black balls zooming around? Those are Bludgers—ouch! That's not good!" 

Carolina winced the same time Joseph did—a Bludger had just slammed into one student's face. Blood spurted out his nose and ran down his robes—his nose was either broken or badly injured, but it looked to be the former. Antigone and Morag looked shocked as the boy carefully made his way to the ground with the help of another student and they headed towards the castle. "Do students often get hurt like that?" Carolina asked nervously. 

"Well, Bludgers are made of solid iron, and if you don't move fast enough they'll whack you a good one. Poor guy can't continue tryouts now, but Madame Pomfrey can fix him up well. I think the worse that's ever happened is a broken jaw." 

"So three Chasers who score with the Quaffle, A Keeper who guards the posts, and two Beaters that stop the two Bludgers from hitting their teammates." Antigone totaled them on her fingers. "That's six players and three balls." 

"Ah, the last position is the best position on the team, the Seeker. See, the Seeker's job is to fly around the field and capture the Golden Snitch. Of course, the Snitch isn't out right now during tryouts, it can get lost much too easy. Capturing the Snitch ends the game and gives your team a hundred and fifty points."

"All that from catching one ball?" Morag looked impressed. "That's not unfair, is it?"

"No, because the Golden Snitch is only as big as a walnut and has little wings that lets it hover and dart all around the field like a hummingbird.. When there's fourteen players all zooming around, plus a referee, and people shouting in the stands, a Seeker who's not focused can easily lose sight of it. And if you see the other team's Seeker dive, you've got to be right behind him or her and hope you can out race them—or hope it's not a Wronski Feint so you don't go crashing into the ground." 

"Tryouts are almost over," Carolina noticed. "I guess the positions are going to be posted later today."

"Nope, you find out here on the pitch whether you've made it or not. See?" Joseph pointed towards the broomshed. "Roger's posting the scroll now." Just after he did, everyone rushed to see, and there were a great many groans as people sighed and walked away. Once in a while there was a whoop of happiness. 

Carolina noticed Cho standing over with the Ravenclaw Captain, in deep conversation and separate from the other Ravenclaws. _I wonder what it's about, _she thought to herself. 

Lawrence came up into the stands, his broomstick over his shoulder. He was grinning happily. "I made Chaser," he announced proudly. 

"Chaser! I thought you were trying out for reserve Keeper," Carolina replied. 

"I was. But they made me Chaser instead. Roger and Samuel Sears—he's the Current Keeper—both agreed I'd be better on the main team and that I would make a great Chaser." 

"What about Cho?"

"Dunno. I didn't see her with me on the list."

"Oh," Antigone sighed. "She didn't make Chaser then." 

A squeal of happiness made everyone turn towards where Cho and Roger was just in time to see her fling her arms around his neck and hug him tightly, shrieking loudly. "Thank you thank you thank you!" she yelled. 

"I thought you said she didn't make Chaser." Carolina looked at Lawrence, confused. 

"She didn't." Lawrence turned towards them. "Cho, what are you so happy about? You didn't make Chaser."

"I made reserve Seeker!" Cho hollered back, grinning from ear to ear. 

"That's much better than Chaser," Antigone remarked. 

"You're not kidding," Lawrence said.

   [1]: mailto:nethilia@yahoo.com



	6. Halloween Secrets, Classroom Charms

**Title:** Birds of a Feather Chapter 6: Halloween Secrets, Classroom Charms  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Good God, this chapter took me forever. Stupid classes and job. Oh well. 

I created all the Wizarding birthday traditions. I also go on the theory that the cutoff date is September 1, and that Hermione is one of the oldest and Harry is one of the youngest. Hence Carolina turns 12, not 11. Hey, it happened to me—I was born in October and so was one of the oldest in my class.

Thanks a lot to Haggridd and Madhuri! You're a lot of the reason this fic is a sucess, you know, and I'm grateful.

*~*~*

Chapter 6  
Halloween, Secrets, Classroom Charms 

Antigone and Morag sat in the Library researching the Goblin Rebellion of 1345. Professor Binns had assigned them a half roll of parchment, but Antigone had done almost a full roll. It wasn't that Goblin rebellions were all that fascinating—Antigone thought that this one in particular was the epitome of boring—but she was extremely eager to prove her magical ability ever since she had come back from her weekend at home. The weather had turned cool as Halloween approached, and so she had found it necessary to bring her cloak when leaving the warmth of the Library to head out to Herbology class or to flying lessons. It was about a week before Halloween. Lawrence had told her all about the grand feast held annually in celebration in the evening. Antigone couldn't wait—she'd never before been allowed to do anything on Halloween night. 

"Are you finished yet?" Morag tapped Antigone on the arm. "I'm ready to go back to the common room. I think we've done more than enough—and I can only take so much of writing about goblins and trolls and the like."

Antigone looked over her parchment, written in tight cursive. She had gotten very good with a quill. "Okay, that does it." She rolled out her parchment. "Do you think it's long enough?" 

"More than enough. You have almost a full roll, and you write much smaller than I. Did you look up extra things?" 

Antigone nodded. ". Antigone nodded. "There were some things in another book here that I looked up the other day."

"You really like finding out things, don't you?" 

"Yes. I don't know if Professor Binns gives extra credit, though."

"Well, anyways, let's head back." 

As Antigone and Morag were gathering their things, they saw three of the First Year Slytherins walk in. Antigone gulped silently; she hadn't had a decent encounter with a Slytherin since the Sorting. Morag scowled, stuffing his rolls into his tote. "Let's just go," he hissed, taking Antigone's hand. "I don't feel like confronting them." 

Antigone nodded, grabbing her backpack. Just as they were walking past, there was a whispered, "Diffindo!", and Antigone suddenly felt her backpack become significantly lighter. She turned to see that the bottom of her backpack had ripped open. All her things were scattered across the floor—quills, textbooks, parchments and broken inkwells. She felt her eyes start to water as she scrambled to pick up her things. 

The Slytherins burst into laughter. Moira Ryans, a girl with long blonde hair and cold blue eyes, leaned over and hissed, "Is the little mudblood's bag in need of repair? Muggle-made things are never as good as honest wizarding things—children included." 

Morag's hands shot out, shoving Moira backwards and onto the floor. Moira shrieked and fell onto a big girl whose face strongly resembled a pug dog. "Millicent!" Moira complained loudly, "that—that brat shoved me!" 

Millicent scowled, looking at Morag murderously. "Keep your dirty hands off her, MacDougal." 

"Keep your spells to yourself and I won't have a reason to." 

"MacDougal's your surname, is it?" Alph Kamain smiled evilly, cutting in. "MacDougalI know that family. I always wondered why you were Sorted into such a low-bred house as Ravenclaw-- oh, that's right! Muggle mother. My family remembers when that scandal happened. I should think the entire MacDougal clan would be embarrassed to find out that the offspring of their once-adored oldest son and heir is not only a mere Ravenclaw but also a protector of clumsy little Mudbloods"

"Keep your comments about Antigone and me to yourself," Morag thundered. "No one with an ounce of self-respect would be a Slytherin, regardless of family."

"Quite the opposite, Morag," Alph snarled back. "No one with an ounce of self-respect for their family's long-standing wizarding name would be in any other house. At least I'm not a dirty little half-blood like you."

Morag took that moment to sock Alph. Antigone gasped as Alph staggered under the blow, spitting blood. Morag didn't have time to say or do another thing before Madame Pince came tearing around the corner a second later.

"I can't believe it! Fighting! In my library! I won't have it! Twenty points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin! And detentions for all five of you!" 

Antigone blinked, shocked. _Detention? But...but I didn't do anything_

"They started it!" Moira snapped. "He shoved me!"

"You started it when you made Antigone's bag rip open, you swotty little bit--"

"Another five from each for your smart attitudes, Miss Ryans and Mr. MacDougal," Madame Pince snapped, cutting Morag off. "All of you, report here immediately tomorrow night at nine." She walked off in a huff. 

Alph closed his eyes halfway in anger, then kicked Antigone's inkwell over her History of Magic essay just before she reached to pick it up. "Whoops," he said coldly, and Antigone looked in horror as her History of Magic essay, the one on which she had worked so hard, was splattered with dark blue ink, completely obliterating it. Antigone bit her lip to fight back her tears as she stared in shock at the ruined essay. _I won't let them see me cry...They won't see me cry... _The Slytherins walked off towards the back of the library as Antigone sat there, blinking back tears. 

Morag leaned over and picked up the dripping essay. "Bastards."

Antigone sniffled. "I worked _so _hard on it." Now that the Slytherins were gone, Antigone let her tears fall down her cheeks silently. It was the first time in a very long while that she could remember crying in the presence of anyone but her mother. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of Morag, but she felt so helpless. "I've got a detention, and lost points for Ravenclaw, and I didn't do anything to them to deserve that"

Morag looked distressed at Antigone's tears. "Don't cry, Antigone. I'm sorry I got you in trouble." He pulled out a handkerchief and let her start to wipe away her tears. "There's bound to be a way to repair itI hope it's not completely ruined...let's go talk to Lawrence, he might know something." He picked up the last of her things and helped her to her feet. 

Antigone sniffled as they walked towards Ravenclaw Corners. "I hope so. Um, Morag?" 

"Yes?" 

"What was it that Alph said about your family?" 

"Nothing important." 

"But it made you so angry."

"I'll tell you later." Morag's tone, though not harsh, clearly said _Drop it. _"First of all, let's get this cleaned up."

*~*~*

"_Purgeo_." Lawrence waved his wand over Antigone's parchment while Morag and Antigone watched. The big blue stain faded, showing Antigone's essay in repaired condition, her neat text still on the page except where the ink had hit. There were blank spots here and there, and so a central part of the essay was no longer there. "A very useful spell," he added as he handed the essay back to Antigone. "It makes unwanted blots on your writing go away as well as unwanted ink spills. I'm sorry that I can't make just the unwanted ink go away, but this makes it so you don't have to use new parchment."

Antigone smiled gratefully, holding up the repaired essay. "Thank you," she whispered softly. Morag nodded his thanks as well, glad to see that Lawrence had been able to help somewhat. 

"No trouble at all. I'll have to teach it to you, it's not too hard and very useful. It just takes a lot of practice to make sure that the ink you want to stay stays and what you want to go goes." He gathered his things. "I would stay but I've got Quidditch practice. Take care." Lawrence rushed out, his broom over his shoulder.

Antigone carefully rolled up her parchment and headed to her dorm in search of a new bottle of ink and some thread to see if she could sew the ripped seam of her backpack together. Morag slumped into a chair and sighed loudly. He felt bad about what had happened in the Library tonight. His temper had caused Antigone to get a detention too. It wasn't that he minded getting detention, but Morag didn't intend to get Antigone wrapped up in it. He was surprised that he had gone so long without one, with all the things he had said to the Slytherins. This was the first time he had hit one, however. At least it was Madame Pince who found us and not Professor Snape. The Potions master would probably have let the Slytherins slide and punished Tig and me even more. To think, my father was from the same house as those slimy, rotten ...

Padma, who was finishing up her herbology essay, went over to him. "Morag, what's upsetting you?" she asked as she set her parchment down.

"Oh, it's nothing too important." _I hope she doesn't ask for clarification._ "Where's Carolina?" 

"In the owlery, sending Nike off with a note to her father." 

"No one notices an owl flying into a Muggle house?" Morag raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

"Oh, normally Muggle parents don't get direct owls. They have to send their owls to the Magical Owl Post Office in London, where there are wizards and witches who accept the owls and and direct the letters to their addresses. I believe that the Muggle parents also send their mail there so it can get to their children. But Carolina's father lives on the moors, like she said, and no one notices her sending him owls." 

"Where'd you learn all that?" 

"Reading _Hogwarts, a History_. Mother and Father own a copy." Padma looked at Morag. "Now, spill. What's really on your mind? You've looked upset since you and Antigone came in from the library with her ruined essay and ripped bag." 

"Just that I slugged a Slytherin and got me and Antigone detention." _And heard nasty things about my father and his family that make me doubt my own heritage,_ Morag wanted to add, but he kept that to himself. 

Padma gasped. "What'd you slug one for? Did they tease Antigone about her bag breaking?" 

"Antigone's bag didn't fall open by accident. One of the Slytherins jinxed it to bust. Then Alph—you know him, annoying little bugger with green eyes?" 

"Yes, I know which one he is." 

"He kicked a bottle of ink all over Antigone's essay. On purpose." 

Padma's eyes thinned to slits in anger. "I've noticed that there's a group of Slytherins always picking on Antigone—her and Carolina. It's like they're their targets—which is pretty unusual, because although the Slytherins are slimy little gits, they don't target others like Alph does. They hate everyone equally. Even Draco Malfoy--Merlin's beard! You should hear what Parvati has to say about him and Harry Potter being at odds with each other!" 

"What sort of things about Harry? The last I heard was that stunt that got him on the Quidditch team."

"Oh, idle girl gossip. Nothing more fascinating than his little achievements in class and rule breaking. But I digress. Even Draco, with his insufferable attitude, is an equal opportunity pain in the arse. Alph does seem to be targetting. He and that blonde girl-- Moira Ryans, yes?" 

"Yeah, she was the one who started it. This time another girl was with them—a big ugly beast of a girl named Millicent."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about her. That girl's as bright as a _Nox_ charm in the Forbidden Forest on a new moon at midnight. Now Moira and AlphI would watch out for them. They're real jerks, and smart besides."

Morag nodded. "I need to study Astronomy for awhile. Antigone and I will be tied up tomorrow night as well. I hate to seem as if I'm brushing you off, but"

"Surely, Morag, I'll let you go. I need to get started on the First-Year's Wall anyway, and then I should owl my mother." Morag propped his copy of _The Ways of the Heavens_ on his lap and started to read—it was not a textbook, but he wanted to raise his grades in Astronomy a bit. As he read, the thoughts of Alph and his comments faded in the blur of constellations and star charts.

He was about halfway through the chapter when a thought popped into his head. _Aunt Opaline was once a MacDougal. There's so much she would know about the MacDougals. I should have asked her first. _He leapt to his feet, not even noticing that his book had hit the floor, and took off for the owlery. 

~*~*~

Carolina had to jump back as Morag came tearing out of Ravenclaw Corners. She didn't even get a second to flag him down and ask where he was going before he was gone in a rush of black robes. _My Goodness! Where is he headed? I wonder if I should followno, I won't._ She shrugged and walked into Ravenclaw Corners. She saw that Antigone was carefully editing what looked like her History of Magic essay, while Padma was helping the other First-Years with their personalized wall. At the moment it didn't look like much. After lengthy discussion, they all had finally agreed on a deep blue velvety background, and they had just started putting it up. Carolina had offered to contribute her photographs to the project, even though some of them were plain Muggle snapshots which didn't move like the collections of wizarding photos a lot of the other students had. She sat down and had just pulled out her Herbology notes for a quick read-over and recopying, when she noticed that Antigone wasn't just editing her essay after all; she was reconstructing what appeared to be a big blank spot in the center of her parchment. "What happened to your essay, Antigone?" Carolina asked, blinking. "You were halfway down the roll before you and Morag went to the library."

"It has to be rewritten because of something that happened in the library."

"What exactly?" 

"Alph Kamain purposely knocked my inkwell over it after we got detentions." 

"Detention! Antigone, what did you deserve a detention for?"

"Well, it started with me, because my backpack ripped open—Moira Ryans jinxed it to rip open, actually— then she and Morag started fighting, then Alph said something that upset Morag, so Morag slugged Alph just as Madame Pince came around the corner and took twenty points from Ravenclaw and Slytherin and gave all five of us detention." Carolina noted that Antigone was rambling, eyes fixed on the table, but she didn't say anything. "So I have to spend tomorrow night in the Library. Nine o'clock." 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Tig. Say! Cheer up, it's only a week till my birthday."

Antigone looked up from her essay. "A week? Tomorrow's a week to Halloween."

Carolina nodded. "Yup, I was born on Halloween." 

"Carolina, you didn't tell any of us your birthday was coming!" Oliver spoke up from his position near the floor where he was helping to tack down the background. "And on Halloween too, what luck!" 

Carolina blushed a bit. "I didn't think it was that important, with the Halloween feast and all."

"Birthdays are always important!" Lisa grinned, letting go of the part she was holding against the wall and letting it fall on top of Terry's head. "Plus, you get to have a feast on your birthday! You'll be turning twelve, yes?"

"Yes. It's my first birthday away from my father actually. I was owling him to see if he wanted to send me a birthday present through owl post."

"As long as it's not a Nimbus 2000." Padma teased. Padma had become the involuntary gossip reporter from Gryffindor because her twin Parvati was always meeting with her to talk about something. When she told them about the Nimbus 2000, the newest and fastest racing broom on the market, she had received looks of absolute envy from Joseph and Terry. Terry mentioned that even his brother David, who was a Beater on the main House team, didn't have a broom as classy as a Nimbus. Carolina grinned, remembering when the six Screech Owls had flown in carrying a long thin package, and scared half the Gryffindors. 

"It won't be a Nimbus anything, I don't like flying too much."

"Either way, we're going to have to plan you a great big party during the feast. I wonder if we can get a cake for you," Padma said, grinning. 

Carolina blushed. "Well, if you insist" 

"Of course we do, Carolina! You're one of us! We have to give you a proper wizarding birthday!" Lisa's eyes lit up.

"Wizarding birthday?" Mandy said what Carolina was thinking. "What's the difference?" 

"You'll see when we plan it. Trust me, you'll like it. It'll add a touch of surprise. And with Carolina being one of the oldest in our year, you'll all know what to expect on your birthdays." 

Carolina blinked, then grinned at the others. "Okay, if you say so." 

*~*~*

Antigone and Morag silently headed towards the library for their detention. Antigone felt like she was going to be sick. She had heard of some of the detentions that had been given out so far. These detentions were not like those given out in her old Muggle school, where you sat around writing lines or the like. Here at Hogwarts, teachers put you to work. One student, a third year named Saraminta Fawcett, had accidentally transfigured a table leg into a rope, which caused a desk to come crashing down to the floor and scattered all the teacups that the students had been transfiguring into toads. It was a sight to see china toads hopping all around the room. For that transgression Professor McGonagall had made poor Saraminta sort papers in her office all night. Antigone hoped that detention at the Library would not be quite so bad. "I hope that we don't have to do something horrible," she whispered. 

Morag patted her hand as they walked along. "Come on, it's a _library!_ What can they do, make us sort books for an hour or the like?" 

The three Slytherins were already there, sulking under the glare of Madame Pince. Moira hissed "Mudblood," at Antigone as she walked past, but Morag didn't react. He did tense up, Antigone noticed. 

"Well! Now that you're all here, you can get to work." Madame Pince read from a list on parchment. "First, there are returned books to be sorted back on the proper shelves. Second, there is a broken bookcase that needs to be repaired." She pushed two carts of books towards the students. "You four split into pairs and start sorting. No magic. And if any of you even think about wandering into the Restricted Section, I'll have you expelled and heading home on the Hogwarts Express before the sun rises." She glanced at Millicent. "Miss Bulstrode, you look more than big enough. You come with me to fix this case. And don't think for a moment I won't notice if you goof off, your four. Get to work."

Millicent glared daggers at Madame Pince as she followed. Morag and Antigone grabbed the nearest cart and quickly pushed it away. "By Merlin's wand, there's no way I'll work with one of those Slytherin brats," 

Morag hissed as he pushed the cart off. Antigone followed dutifully.

"See?" he added as they rounded the corner and stopped pushing. "All we have to do is sort books. Not bad at all."

"I guess," Antigone said. "but we're going to have to wander up and down all the aisles." 

"Not if we do it right. See, we're in the Astronomy section now, right?" 

"Yes?" 

"And we both know the layout of the Library as perfectly as we do Ravenclaw Corners, like the backs of our hands, right?"

Antigone nodded. 

"So, if we first sort the books in their proper order, we can just run up and down the rows once. We'll be done in no time." Morag pulled all the books off the cart and started to spread them on a table. "Put all the books of the same topic together, then we'll sort them into alphabetical order." 

Together Antigone and Morag sorted the books. Antigone saw a few books that looked fascinating, and decided to remember where they were so that she could get them tomorrow. It took about twenty minutes to sort to sort the books by topic, then each took a stack of books to sort alphabetically. Afterwards they placed them back on the cart and started to place them in their sections. 

"You're right Morag, this is fast," Antigone said. 

"Told you." He looked at one book's title and his eyes furrowed. "I'll have to check this out tomorrow," he whispered under his breath. He stuffed it on the shelf, but not before Antigone saw the title _Families of the Dark Era._ She blinked, then shook her head. Whatever it was, it was Morag's business until he told her. 

She looked at the book she was holding, which belonged in the Muggle Studies section, reading out the title. "_As The Gods Make It: Magic in Muggle Religions_." She gasped softly in surprise, almost dropping the book, then held it to her.

"That sounds interesting," Morag said, looking at the book Antigone was holding.

Antigone nodded vaguely. She wondered if Madame Pince would let her check out this book tonight. The Library was closed, of course, and she was supposed to be concentrating on her detention task rather than browsing the library to pick up some light reading, but surely Madame Pince would make a little exception. She tucked the book at the bottom of the cart and continued to sort books. 

Finally Morag and she were done, a full ten minutes before their detention was supposed to be up. They headed to Madame Pince's desk, where Millicent was standing and waiting on her fellow Slytherins.

"Done early?" Madame Pince asked, looking over her glasses. Antigone and Morag nodded. "Good. You may head to you dorm now."

"Madame Pince?" Antigone asked, her voice faltering as Morag headed towards the door. 

"Yes?" Madame Pince turned her head.

"May I check this book out?" Antigone set _As the Gods Make It_ on the counter. "I know I shouldn't have been looking at the books personally, but this one's really important."

"No, Miss Moon, you may not check out this book right now. The Library is closed."

Antigone sighed and looked at her feet. "Yes, Madame Pince." She held out her hand, prepared to put the book back where it belonged. 

"I will hold the book and you may come take it out in the morning, however, but only because you and Master MacDougall sorted the books so efficiently. Don't expect this favor every time you get a detention."

_The last thing I plan on is getting another detention._ "Thank you, Madame Pince." she said, rushing out of the Library. When she and Morag had made it to Ravenclaw Corners, she was too tired to bother with anything else. She curled up under the covers and buried her head into her pillow. Shadow was much bigger than he was when she had gotten him, and he was asleep at the foot of the bed. She closed her eyes, wondering what the book she had picked out was truly about. It sounded extremely fascinating—almost as if it could help her with her problem. As she fell asleep, she decided that, if at all possible, she was going to try and take that book home so her mother could see it.

*~*~*

"and so you have to take this Hogsmeade weekend and get things for Carolina's birthday party," Padma said. She was sitting at a table with Lawrence, who was listening to her explain. Since there was a Hogsmeade weekend for the third years and up, Padma was asking Lawrence if he could pick up some things for Carolina's birthday. "After all, this will be Carolina's first Wizarding birthday, and she deserves to have the best birthday ever, right?"

Lawrence nodded. "No trouble. One of the best celebrations is a Wizarding birthday—that and Halloween. And with her having her birthday on Halloween, it's twice the celebration. Sure. Sure. Saraminta and I can get everything you need." 

"Thanks a lot, Lawrence." Padma placed the money gathered from the First Years. Everyone--except Carolina, of course-- had contributed money for Carolina's birthday. They had collected it when she wasn't around. Padma had decided to enlist Third-Year Lawrence to buy the things they needed at Hogsmeade. "This should be more than enough. You know what to get, don't you?" 

"Yup. I'll even put in an order at Honeydukes—they make wonderful birthday cakes. Do you know her favorite flavor?" 

"Chocolate. Make it that thick rich gooey chocolate, the kind that oozes cavities for the next year'. And lots of sweets."

"Good choice. Stuff from Zonko's too?"

"Nothing too extreme."

"I know that. This is a birthday party, not April Fool's Day. I know, I'll see if there's a nice watch at Ticker's Timepieces for Carolina, and I'll get some butterbeer, of course. It shouldn't be too difficult to bring back into the school. A case and a half should be enough for all you first years, Cho, and myself. Saraminta, too—she'll probably want to be involved."

"A case and a half? I'm not sure we have enough for that."

"I'll pay for the butterbeer myself. Consider that my contribution. I'll even tell Saraminta no tricks." Lawrence scribbled everything on his sheet of parchment. "You know how she is—if you don't tell her to behave herself, she won't." 

"Make sure you tell her." Padma reached into her pocket and pulled out ten Sickles and a small letter. "Can you buy this for my birthday gift to Carolina?"

Lawrence opened the note, then nodded as he closed it. "That shouldn't be hard at all. Sure." He stuffed the money in his pocket. 

"Please don't tell Carolina a thing, okay?"

"Certainly." Lawrence grinned. "Her first wizarding birthday ever—this should be a birthday Carolina will never forget." 

*~*~*

Morag had been reading _Families of the Dark Era_ continually since Friday-- between classes, mostly, though Professor Binns hadn't caught him reading it during History of Magic. In the past four days he hadn't come across anything worth mentioning. Today the Ravenclaws had Charms. Professor Flitwick announced that they were going to learn how to make things levitate. Morag made sure that he was paired with Carolina. Carolina had been having trouble in Charms—her brilliant performance in Transfiguration more than made up for it, but she was upset that she wasn't doing much better. 

Morag looked at the feather on the desk. "Remember," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "swish and flick. It's a sharp snap of the wrist. And say your words properly, or you may end up with your ears turned into donkey's ears, like Miss Harriet Farina." 

"You do it," Morag said. "I tried the spell myself yesterday when I heard the Hufflepuffs had this class and I got it right." To demonstrate, he made the feather hover a few inches off the desk where Professor Flitwick couldn't see and then set it back down. 

Carolina bit her lip and looked at the feather on the desk. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she shouted, snapping her wrist. The feather lay there. She scowled and flicked again, and the feather sort of rolled over. "That's not it," she scowled, looking at the feather. 

"Hold on," Morag said, setting his wand down. He placed his hand on Carolina's and then moved his hand in order to turn her wrist properly. "Make sure you make your pronunciation isn't clipped. It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa. Say each part nice and clear." 

With his hand guiding hers, Carolina moved her wrist back and forth until they got it right. They were briefly interrupted when Terry accidentally said "_Wingardium Beviosa_" and found his feather beating him around the face like an upset bird. Professor Flitwick had to end the charm himself, and Terry looked pretty silly with a feather smacking him in the face. Finally Morag moved his hand. "Now try it yourself."

Carolina rolled up her sleeves and flicked her wrist over her feather. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" To both their surprise, the feather floated off the desk and towards the ceiling. the ceiling. It was not the first feather to levitate, of course—that belonged to Antigone, who was getting better and better at Charms with each passing day—but Carolina's face lit up at her success. 

"Thank you, Morag!" she said, hugging him tightly." 

Morag grinned, just as Professor Flitwick dismissed them. Together the First years headed to Herbology. Morag didn't get another chance to read anything in Herbology, as they were studying Devil's snare and he didn't want to try and read in a dimmed greenhouse (Devil's snare didn't like light and so Professor Sprout had dimmed the greenhouses with a Nox Spell). It was at lunch when, to his surprise, a school owl swooped in and left a letter near his plate. Normally letters came in the morning. He shrugged and opened it. Inside was a note from his Aunt Opaline, very short and in tight handwriting. 

I don't know what it is you're trying to discover about your father, but I am the wrong person to ask. I don't want to hear or speak another thing about the MacDougals, living, dead or otherwise. I realize that you are curious but I must be firm. Do not ask me any more about your father's family, I will not reply. 

--Aunt Opaline

Morag blinked, then balled up the parchment in anger. Well, that was a dead end. He was going to have to do all his learning alone then, or at least without any aid from his aunt—that is, unless he could _make_ her tell him. After lunch was over, Morag dutifully went to History of Magic and propped his book on his desk. Professor Binns never noticed that he was reading something else in class. 

It was about ten minutes into the class when he finally saw something that was on the MacDougals. Silently, he read. It was only a paragraph, but it piqued his curiosity. 

"The MacDougals were one of the first families to turn against You-Know-Who. Though it was known that they were involved at the start of the Dark Era, they pulled out early when it seemed problematic. The eldest son, Geoffrey MacDougal (deceased) was one of the first in the family to rebel and abandon the ways of the MacDougals. He was soon followed by his sister Opaline and his brother Alexander. They were the only three to go against the clan formally. Though the MacDougals were never involved in some of the worst parts of the Dark Era—thereby keeping themselves out of Azkaban—they were nonetheless supportive of You-Know-Who's policies against Muggles. The MacDougals are still a prominent wizarding family in current times."

Morag looked over the paragraph again shocked by the allegations on his family, then quickly scribbled down the name before looking at it again. _Alexander MacDougal. I wonder what he has to say about my father—he was his brother._ He decided to worry about it later—after all, tomorrow was Halloween, and not a time to worry about the problems in his family—corruption or not.

*~*~*

Padma woke to the delicious aroma of baking pumpkin wafting in from the hallway. She couldn't wait for class to be over and the banquet to come that night. She had planned everything—Lawrence had gotten everything together and had hidden half of it in his dorm; Terry and Oliver had been so generous as to hide the rest. Honeydukes had delivered the cake yesterday, and Antigone had learned a useful charm and was going to make the cake icing flash different colors. Nothing could go wrong today. 

The first thing she did that morning was wake up the other girls, and they all got dressed while Carolina slept. Then Padma shook Carolina gently. Carolina rose out of bed sleepily. "Yes, Padma?" 

"Climb out of bed and pull on your robes." Padma waited patiently, then pulled out her wand. So did Lisa—they were the only two girls who knew the spell as they had had it performed on them year after year. She had learned the incantation from her mother, who did it every time the twins had a birthday. Together the girls touched Carolina on the head and whispered "_Anniversaire Lumos_." There was a soft glow of light that dissipated into a fine mist. 

"The first blessing of a Wizarding birthday," Padma smiled. "The Birthday Glow."

Carolina twirled around. "What does it do?"

"Everyone will know it's your birthday. The Glow is the giveaway. Even people who don't know you will see the Glow and recognize that today is your birthday. Remember a few weeks ago, when Hermione Granger was walking around with a soft glow in her hair? Parvati had cast a Birthday Glow on her. The more people do it, the stronger it is, but it can only be cast by persons of the same gender."

Carolina grinned. "Will it be obvious?"

"Not glaringly—Birthday Glows tend to center near the face and hair, so you'll look like you're walking around with an aureole."

"Cool!" said Mandy. Antigone nodded.

"There's another charm," said Padma as they left the dorms, "but that's for tonight."

All day Padma watched as people came up to Carolina and wished her happy birthday. None of the Slytherins did, of course, but everyone else did. Professor McGonagall even smiled a bit and wished her a happy birthday. Snape didn't say happy birthday—that was expected—but he did grumble about the fact that yet another student insisted on prancing about in a halo. By the end of the day Padma could see that Carolina was beaming— and it wasn't merely the Birthday Glow. 

As they headed to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast, Parvati ran up to Padma. "Padma, Padma, did you hear what happened?" 

"What?" Padma said, silently wondering why her sister was such a gossip. 

"Hermione Granger is in the bathroom crying her eyes out. Apparently Ron Weasley and Harry Potter said something beastly about her—being too smart for her own good. Honestly, how'd she ever end up in Gryffindor? You would think she would have been a Ravenclaw with the rest of you." 

Padma shrugged. "I don't claim to know how the hat works." 

"Anyways, I don't even think she's coming for the feast—Oh, is that the Birthday Glow?" she said, turning to Carolina. "You lucky girl! You get a school-wide feast on your birthday!" She grinned at Carolina just as they entered the Great Hall.

Thousands of live bats swooped over their heads, flickering the lights in the pumpkins scattered around the hall. As they sat at the table and the food appeared on their plates, Lawrence leaned over to Padma and said, "Should I go back in a few minutes and get Carolina's cake?"

Padma was about to reply when Professor Quirrell tore into the Great hall in a panic, his turban askew. Silence hung over the hall as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair and gasped out, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know," before hitting the ground in a dead faint.

*~*~*

Shrieks of panic flooded the Great Hall. Carolina's heart jumped into her throat. _What was a_ troll _doing in the school? On Halloween? And of all days, my birthday! _Suddenly the air was punctured by loud purple firecrackers from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dorms immediately!" 

In a rush Carolina joined a group of Ravenclaws, grabbing Padma's hand and dragging her off. Behind, she could hear Morag mumbling and Antigone's wracking sobs. As one pack, they all headed towards Ravenclaw Corners fast as they could, their prefect leading the way. 

When they got into Ravenclaw Corners, they scrambled for seats around a table, breathing very heavily. Most of the Ravenclaws were already inside. The food that was supposed to be their feast was now laid out along one of the long tables. "A troll?" Cho gasped, looking disheveled. "How could a troll get inside?"

"Trolls aren't supposed to come in?" Padma said, trying to catch her breath.

"They're not supposed to be anywhere around Hogwarts!" 

Carolina hiccoughed. "On my birthday, too." Tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Padma said that the best part of my birthday was going to be in the Great Hall during the feast, where all the Ravenclaws could see" 

"I'm sorry," Padma looked disappointed. "There were all sorts of things Lawrence and we all planned. The best part is the serving of the—"

"Birthday cake?" Lawrence spoke up. Carolina spun around to see Lawrence, grinning as he held a large chocolate birthday cake dripping with thick dark icing that flashed in different colors of blue and bronze. The Ravenclaw eagle on top flapped it wings and squawked softly as Lawrence set the cake down, and twelve blue candles graced the top of the cake in a neat circle, where _Happy 12__th__ Birthday Carolina_ was outlined in icing. "I know we couldn't do it in the Great Hall, like we wanted," he said, sitting down. "But this is just as good. Good thing I left it in my dorm." 

Carolina started blushing as Padma led her to a large blue chair in the center of the room, and everyone in Ravenclaw Corners started singing Happy Birthday. A few of the older students made large blue steamers and confetti burst from their wands that sprinkled over their heads. 

Saraminta passed out the butterbeer she and Lawrence had gotten for the group, as the first years scrambled to their dorms and got the presents they had bought her. Antigone even shyly uncovered two presents she had carefully kept hidden, a large box from Carolina's father, and a smaller one from Esmerelda. Carolina didn't want to be greedy and tear them open, but they insisted. She ended up with lots of bags of candies and sweets (and many bags of Every Flavor Beans) from most of the First Years. Her father had sent her a box of peppermints and a warm lavender sweater with a note saying that he didn't want his little girl catching a cold in those drafty castle walls. Lawrence got her a wizard's watch with stars twirling over the silver face, hands that kept perfectly accurate time, and soft chimes that rang every quarter hour. Morag had given her a large stuffed teddy bear (He shyly admitted he didn't know what to get a girl for a present.) Antigone had given her a diary, and Esmerelda had given her a small jewelry box that could only be opened by Carolina. But the best gift she decided was a small golden pendant from Padma with a little owl that hooted if you touched its feathers. Padma blushed when Carolina hugged her tightly. 

As the Ravenclaws dispersed to gather plates, and Cho handed Carolina the knife to slice her cake—and as Lawrence cast the "Anniversaire Confectiona" charm to create cupcakes for all the Ravenclaws to gorge themselves—Carolina looked at Padma. "What's the other part of a Wizarding birthday?" 

Padma snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot! The Birthday Charm!" 

"Is that like the Birthday Glow?"

"Not quite. Stand up." Padma pulled out her wand as Carolina rose to her feet. "Okay, guys, pull out your wands." All the first years, Cho, and Lawrence pulled out their wands. "We've been practicing since we found out your birthday was today so that we could all get it right." Together they touched their wands to Carolina, and a warm glow filled her. She listened as they spoke together.

"May we always be here for you, Carolina. May you always find friends in our circle. May your birthday wishes and dreams come true, and may this birthday be the first of many wonderful wizarding birthdays. May you grow wiser and braver, and brighter over the year, and may happiness be with you always. _Anniversaria_!" This time a bright glow filled Carolina and she felt like she was being wrapped in a blanket and filled with warm cocoa. The spell didn't dissipate like the Birthday Glow had, but instead settled inside her like it was being absorbed. 

"What was that?" she whispered. 

"The Birthday Charm," Cho said. "It takes everyone who cares about you because that is the focus of the charm. All of your friends wish the best for you, and you get to feel just how much we care about you in that instant. It fills you with that warmth." 

Carolina grinned, almost blushing. 


	7. Battles On Broomsticks

**Title:** Birds of a Feather First Flight: Chapter 7: Battles on Broomsticks  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.geocities.com/ravenclaw_princess.

Eee.crap is no thanks. Obstacle after obstacle...well ,the chapter is out now. 

I have recently been informed that my beloved Morag has a girl's name. Well rats, chalk it up to Stupid American. Anways, I'm not changing the name, or the gender. There's a reason for this, but I'm not telling! There is Quidditch in this chapter, a poke at the Gryffs, and the relevation that Morag's pretty bright. Oh and I chip down a little more of Antigone's world--but no peeking yet. 

Thankoo Haggridd and Madhuri. I promise, I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot more quickly tha I did this time. 

*~*~*

Chapter 7  
Battles on Broomsticks

November had come to Hogwarts, and with it even more cold weather. Padma didn't go outside if she could help it—every morning the ground was covered in frost and the lake had almost iced over. She preferred to stay in the library. She was very glad that flying lessons had ended this Tuesday. Padma was now a top flyer, though Morag was still much better. He and Joseph were the two Ravenclaws who excelled at flying, and Padma wondered if they would try out next year for Quidditch. The first Quidditch match of the year would be that Saturday-- Slytherin versus Gryffindor-- and Padma was excited. Not only would it be her first Quidditch match, but Harry Potter would be on the field as well. Many people were giving him words of encouragement, but the Slytherins were mostly jeering at him. 

There was midnight Astronomy class that night with the Gryffindors, so Padma was reading up on the constellation Orion for homework. Carolina had been studying her Charms text, practicing Lumos charms in the darker corners of the common room, and was now at the table, working on Astronomy homework with Padma. Morag had finished his homework, and was now reading _Families of the Dark Era_ along with a few other books about the History Of Magic. Antigone was also reading a book, _As the Gods Make It,_ but was not nearly so absorbed as Morag. Padma didn't know why Morag would be interested in such a book, other than for research. The Dark Era was not a topic that fascinated most people. Padma was just taking notes on the cycle of Orion in the sky when Morag slammed his book down and groaned, catching her attention.

"What's wrong, Morag?" Padma asked. 

"Nothing, nothing." Morag slumped back in his chair. "I'm just not getting anywhere with this research of mine." 

"What is it that you're researching?" Antigone asked softly, placing her bookmark in her book and setting it on the table.

"Information about my father's family. I don't know anything about them—what with my father dying when I was so young and all."

"Won't your family help you any?" Carolina asked. "That should be the first place you look." 

"Not really. I wrote Aunt Opaline. She didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. My mother knows nothing about father's family-- I remember asking her as a small child." Morag stared at the wall. "Everything about my family's a mystery. I mean, I know a lot about my mother's side of the family, but my father's side is—I don't know—obscured, somehow. It's as if no one wants to speak about the MacDougals." 

Padma shrugged. "I don't claim to understand what you're talking about—I've always known about my family—but why are you reading _Families of the Dark Era?_ I think that is the last place you would want to find anything about your family." 

"There _were_ all those whispers when you were being sorted. I do remember that." Carolina set down her quill. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Do you suspect it was because your father was somehow involved in something not quite respectable?" 

Morag's eyes widened. He looked as if he wanted to say something, then just shook his head and looked very embarrassed. "Those whispers were probably because of my name." 

"The MacDougal part?" Padma asked. "I mean, there was whispering when that Weasley kid was sorted, because they're so noticeable—is it the same thing with your family?."

"What about Harry Potter?" Antigone asked Padma. 

"That's different. His whole name's widely known, and I think they were whispering because of Morag's last name." Padma turned back to Morag. "Well?"

"It might have been," Morag said, and Padma noted that he sounded like he was covering up something. "But I suspect it was because of my first name." 

Carolina turned to Morag, a look of recognition coming over her face. "I noticed your name sounded odd, but I couldn't place why. Is your name unusual for you?"

"Yes, but it wouldn't if I were a witch." Morag blushed at the admission.

Padma nearly gagged on her Every Flavor Bean—she had gotten one that tasted exactly like shoe polish. Spitting out the bean into a handkerchief and visibly shuddering, she looked up at Morag. "A witch-- you mean a _girl?_"

Morag nodded, looking at the floor, then up at the ceiling-- anywhere but directly at his friends. "I have a girl's name—why, I don't know. I just know that when I was born, my father named me Morag—my mom didn't have anything to do with naming me, I learned later on. It was very embarrassing, every year of primary, on the first day of school to have the teacher call the roll, then look at me with surprise when I confirmed that my name was Morag. I didn't even know it was a girl's name until I got into primary school—I thought it was just a name." He groaned. "It's as bad as naming a girl Mark' or something."

"What would have prompted your father to give you such an obvious girl's name?" Padma wondered aloud. "I mean, he must have known that it would cause you endless teasing."

"That's what I want to know. Hence all this looking stuff up."

Carolina looked at her watch. "We'd better hurry—Astronomy class is in an hour and I'm not yet done with my star chart." 

Padma leaned over. "What constellation are you tracking? Professor Sinistra has me studying Orion."

"Aries. I'm paired with Hermione Granger, and she always has as many notes as a Ravenclaw would. I think she's in the library more than we are at times—and that's saying a lot." 

"Here." Padma pushed over the copy of _The Wizard's Sky Atlas_. "Get the notes out of this book. It's very detailed on the topic." 

*~*~*

Friday night, after everyone had gone to bed, Antigone found she wasn't able to sleep. Too many thoughts were turning over in her head, mostly inspired by _As The Gods Make It_. So she quietly slipped into her bunny slippers and out of her dorm with Shadow at her heels and the book in her hand, hoping that the silence of night in Ravenclaw Corners would enable her to concentrate. The book was due the next day and she wanted to get as much out of it as she could before she turned it back in. Antigone was surprised when she got to the common room to find Morag awake as well. He was in black pajamas with plain slippers, curled up in a chair and reading _Families of the Dark Era._

"Morag, you're still up?" she said, startling him. He was the only one in the common room, other than a Sixth Year who had fallen asleep with her head in her textbook. He twisted in his chair to look at her, closing the book and marking his place with his finger. 

"So are you." Morag answered. "What brings you out of bed, Tig?" 

"My mind at work, actually. I've been asking myself all these questions about things since I checked this book out. A lot of really interesting facts are in it—things that I would have never thought about or known." 

"Such as?" 

"Have you ever heard of the Greek myth of Arachne?"

"The one who challenged the Goddess of wisdom Athena and got turned into a spider? Yes, I've heard it a lot. I was delighted to see that that beautiful tapestry of Athena is the entrance to our common room. She's always been my favorite Greek goddess." 

"Listen to this." Antigone pulled another chair close to Morag's and flipped it open to a bookmarked page. The picture showed a very serious looking woman with dark grey eyes that blinked and an owl perched on her hand. "Athena was a real person, and she wasn't a goddess. She was a witch, however, and a very powerful one, at that. She lived back in the classical Greek era. She was very solitary; people never saw much of her or her family. She was a skilled weaver, and sold her tapestries for large amounts of money, but she always sent them to market by owl rather than deal with Muggles." 

"Is that why Athena is always pictured with an owl?" 

"Exactly! It wasn't her token animal, it was just her pet. A Muggle woman—that's Arachne—had a rival practice and didn't like that Athena never showed her face in market. So she started bragging that Athena wasn't that good of a weaver if she couldn't even come to market. Athena found out through the person that sold her tapestries and Apparated to market that next week."

"And she issued the challenge right then and there?" 

"Yes. Arachne wouldn't back down either, so they went on with the competition, right there in the marketplace. Athena used magical weaving though, and her tapestry glittered and the figures moved around in it. It's very hard to weave a tapestry that moves too, so this was adding insult to injury. Arachne got very upset when she realized that she was competing against a witch. Although her weaving was good, it couldn't match up against magic, so she went and ripped the whole tapestry apart."

"She didn't!" 

"Sure did. Stormed right over and grabbed the end and ripped it down the middle. Not that Athena couldn't fix it, mind, but the idea that some Muggle would rip up her work just because she was better upset her greatly. She whipped out her wand, transfigured Arachne into a spider before anyone could blink, then Disapparated with a pop. Athena never came to the market again, and never sold another tapestry to the Muggles." 

"All that because her work was ripped up?"

"She was known in the local wizarding community for her short temper. Poor Arachne had to be turned back into herself by another wizard who'd seen the whole event and felt sorry for her, so she didn't stay a spider. The Muggles there passed this story down. But truth became fiction, fiction became myth, and myth became clouded." 

"Very interesting. Are there more stories like that in your book?" 

Antigone nodded. "All sorts of stories, stories about wizards and witches that ultimately were passed down in Muggle religions. It's really made me think about things." 

Morag looked at Antigone. "What kinds of things?"

Antigone gulped and looked at the floor, where Shadow was batting around quill someone had forgotten. "Just my perception of things—stuff I never thought about before I came to Hogwarts." 

"Stuff that has to do with your family?"

Antigone's eyes widened in fright and she shrank back into her chair, silent. _He's not supposed to suspect that! What has he figured out about my family? He'd hate me if he knew the truth. _Morag sat there, the silence between them dragging out. Finally Morag broke it. 

"There's a reason I'm reading _Families of the Dark Era_, and it's not just because it's full of interesting facts." He opened the book to where he'd been holding it and pointed to a picture on the page. Antigone leaned over and stared at the image for a while. It appeared to be a wizard with thick red hair and deep grey eyes. Sitting in front of him was a young witch with long auburn hair and the same steel grey eyes, and standing beside him was another wizard who looked like he could have been the first man's twin. They were all shifting in place, and looked a bit wary, as if they could trust only each other. There was most likely a caption under the picture, but Morag's hand was covering it. 

"Who are they?" 

"Look really closely at the picture, Tig, and show me why you're a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff." 

Antigone looked up at Morag, and the connection clicked. "Morag—you've got the same eyes," she whispered. 

"Yes I do." Morag pulled his hand back and uncovered the caption, allowing Antigone to read it. 

_"Geoffrey, Opaline and Alexander MacDougal._ Don't you have an Aunt Opaline-- Miriam's mother?" 

"There she is in the picture, only twenty years younger. She wasn't even married yet—so Miriam wasn't born then." 

"What's a picture of your aunt doing in this book? Does this have anything to do with what Alph said about you in the library? Was—was someone in your family in Slytherin?" 

"My father, actually." Morag looked disgusted, as if he'd just eaten an unpleasant Every Flavor Bean. "For all I know, my aunt and my uncle-- that's the other man in the picture, an uncle I knew nothing about before I read this-- were Sorted there as well. The MacDougal clan goes back in history as pure-blooded and prestigious as the Malfoys themselves, and is just as snooty about the purity of their Wizarding blood." Morag dropped his voice and looked around, making sure that the Sixth Year was still asleep. "For all I know, my father could even have been a dark wizard. The MacDougals had all turned away from You-Know-You before he had gained most of his power, but they still thought he had good ideas. They even thought that You-Know-Who might have had a point about getting rid of Muggle-born witches and wizards." 

"That's horrible! And you _come_ from those people?"

"I come from them, but I'm not one of them." Morag gave Antigone a pleading look. "You can't tell anyone, Tig. Got that? You can't tell Carolina, or Padma, or anyone else in Ravenclaw Corners. I wouldn't have confided in you at all, but I'm hoping that I can trust you to keep this a secret. Promise me, Tig. Promise you won't tell anyone that my father was a Slytherin, and, for all I know, a former Death Eater!" 

*~*~*

Antigone squirmed uncomfortably, but Morag didn't shift his gaze. _Come on, Antigone,_ he thought. _I'm trusting you._

Finally, Antigone whimpered. "I promise. I won't tell anyone." Staring into her lap, she looked like she was going to burst out crying at any moment. 

"Thank you, Antigone. Are you going to stay up any longer?" 

"N-no. I'm going to go to bed now. See you in the morning, okay?" She clasped her book to her chest and shuffled back into her dorm, her head down and Shadow at her heels. Morag picked up his book and headed to his dorm, then kicked off his slippers and climbed into bed before pulling the bed curtains around him. He leaned back against the pillows, but he was fretting about Antigone and the secret he'd asked her to keep. 

Morag felt horrible, making her keep a secret this large, but chances were that her secret about her own family was just as big, if not quite so bad. Antigone was a trustworthy witch, he knew, but she was carrying a heavy burden all alone when it came to her family. Perhaps now that she was keeping such a secret about him, she might realize that people trusted her, and that she could trust them in return. 

He pulled the covers over himself and fell into a deep sleep. 

*~*~*

Saturday morning the school was bustling and full of energy. That morning was the first Quidditch match of the year, and Morag was very eager to see how it would go. He was discussing the potential outcome with Joseph and Cho over breakfast. Cho was very interested in watching Harry play so she could think up her own strategies. 

Morag was about to point out that it was unlikely that she would learn any great strategy from a person who had never before even seen a Quidditch match, let alone played it, when a school owl flew in and dropped a letter on his pancakes. He flipped it over, wiping syrup off it, then looked at the front. It only said one thing, on the front, in deep green ink: "Miss Morag MacDougal." He groaned inwardly and ripped it open, wondering who would have addressed him in such a fashion—if it wasn't a mean spirited prank by a Slytherin.

It was the first line that made him quickly stuff the letter into his pocket. Carolina blinked at him, her mouth full of porridge, and she had to swallow before asking, "What's that you've got?" 

"Not mine," Morag said, stuffing his mouth with more pancake. "It was addressed to a Miss."

"But someone could mistake you for a miss." 

"Then it's definitely not for me, as everyone who knows me personally knows I'm a boy despite my name." 

"Then why'd you put it into your pocket?" Padma looked at Morag suspiciously. 

Morag didn't answer. Instead, he finished off the rest of his orange juice and rose to his feet. "I'll be back later. I'm going to get my cloak—it'll probably be pretty cold in the stands." As he walked off, he gave Antigone a quick look. He caught her eye and motioned for her to follow with a quick jerk of his head.

Seconds later, she was right behind him, wrapping bacon in a napkin. "Why'd you signal for me to follow?" she asked, looking surprised. 

Morag pulled the still slightly sticky letter from his pocket and held it out. "This is for me, Antigone. Right after Halloween I sent a school owl to my Uncle Alexander—the one in the book that you saw." 

Antigone blinked. "You didn't know if he was alive or not, and you still wrote to him?" 

"Sure did. He just wrote me back. He's never seen me though—he probably does think I'm a girl." 

"Morag! What if he's some kind of dark wizard? He might want to hurt you!" 

"I don't know that, Antigone. But he's the only person who might tell me anything about my father. It's just a chance I had to take." They whispered the password to Ravenclaw Corners—it had just changed to "He who dies with the most books, wins."—and scrambled inside. Morag ran into his dorm to get his cloak—it would look pretty suspicious if he didn't have it—and took Antigone's hand. "Let's go to the Quidditch pitch—we can talk about it after the game, okay?" 

*~*~*

Carolina was completely confused. Seconds after Morag had left without explanation, Antigone scrambled to her feet, took her tote and made some excuse about taking her leftover sausage to Shadow. She hadn't even had sausage for breakfast-- she just grabbed her bacon and took off. Carolina turned towards Padma and asked, "What was that all about?" 

Padma shrugged. "I don't have a clue. At least it's Morag who got a weird letter this time—the last time, Antigone got the mysterious letter, then she took of and wasn't seen again until the Monday morning after. Morag's letter couldn't be that bad, else he'd have told us. That's how he is." 

"Well, I hope they're both back in time for the game—they won't get good seats." Lawrence—who had been listening, rose to his feet. "Ready to go to the stands?" Carolina nodded. "Good! I can't wait to see how this Potter kid plays."

Carolina joined the rest of the school heading out to the pitch. It was very cold, and she was glad that she'd gotten her cloak earlier. Lawrence was rubbing his binoculars with the sleeve of his robes to clean them. "Why do you need the binoculars?" Carolina asked. "I thought the stands were raised up high."

"They are," Lawrence replied, "But sometimes you want to get a bit closer to the game." He pointed to some seats that were near the front row. "Let's sit there so we can see the action best." 

As they sat (leaving a spot for Antigone and Morag) Carolina turned around to look at the quickly filling stands. Three of the Gryffindor first years were unrolling what looked to be a large banner. It wasn't until they got it fully open that she saw the Gryffindor lion and "Potter for President" in large letters. Hermione Granger was in the stands as well, and Carolina saw her wave her wand near the letters. The paint started to flash different colors just as Parvati sat beside them. Padma had beckoned her over. With her was her friend Lavender Brown and another Gryffindor first year, Marilyn Hopper. 

"Oh, I can't wait for the game to start!" Parvati babbled, squeezing Padma's arm. "It's the very first game of the year and Harry's in it!" 

"I hope he does well," Marilyn said, pulling her cloak tighter. "Ever since he, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger started being friends, he's been studying the sport as if it was life or death!"

"When did they become friends?" Carolina asked just as Morag and Antigone squeezed in beside her. 

"Right around Halloween, from what I heard. Hermione went and confronted that nasty troll all by herself." Parvati looked disgusted. "I mean, honestly! She went to take on a full grown mountain troll all alone, just because she'd been studying them. She just ran off after it without thinking!" 

Morag snorted under his breath. "Not thinking first? It sounds like she does belong in Gryffindor, then." Carolina bit her lip to stop from laughing—Morag was known to crack jokes about any house not his own, and his perception of Gryffindors was "all heart, no head." Parvati shot him a dirty look. 

"Oh, you're just jealous because Harry Potter's a Gryffindor," Lavender snapped back. 

"Why would that be the cause? I hadn't heard a thing about him before I came to Hogwarts, I surely can't be jealous of him."

"Anyway," Parvati pointedly ignored Morag's comment, "Harry and Ron found her just before she was killed and saved her from what would have surely been her death. After that, they've just been around each other. I guess it's things like that that forge tight friendships." 

"Look!" Carolina pointed at the pitch, as she saw the two teams come out onto the pitch with their brooms in hand. "The game's about to start!"

*~*~* 

Padma clapped and cheered as the two teams took off into the air. Madame Hooch freed the Quaffle, which flew up and was immediately caught by one of the Gryffindor Chasers. Padma kept her eye on the teammates, but with fourteen people zipping around she could barely keep up. She did see that Harry Potter was way above the others, gliding around and looking at the others. "What's he doing way up there? He can't catch the Snitch just buzzing around at the top." 

"I'm not so sure." Cho replied. "Roger's been watching the reserves play against the main team and he tells me to keep an eye on the other Seeker so I see what he's doing. I've been practicing with the practice Snitch." 

"Practice Snitch?" Lavender looked confused. 

"Yes. We can't have the official school Snitch because losing it means we would have to replace it, so we practice with small dimpled white balls."

"Golf balls?" Carolina asked. Lawrence nodded. 

"What's a golf ball?" Padma cut in, tugging on Carolina's sleeve. 

"They're used in a Muggle sport. Involves hitting them across a grass field with metal clubs." 

"Like Beaters use?"

"No, they're long and thin and have the hitting part at the end. 

"Wouldn't that be hard, having to hit it while it's moving around in the air like that?" 

"Not quite." Carolina looked as if she was about to tell Padma more when she was cut off by a loud, "GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" Padma turned to see a Gryffindor Chaser circling the field and clapping. 

"Go Angelina!" Parvati shrieked, jumping up and down. "First score of the game!" 

Padma waited until the cheers (or in the case of the Slytherins, the hisses) died down then turned back to Carolina. "What else about golf?" 

"Golf balls don't float. Let me explain. First, you have to go to a special place where you can play golf called a 'golf course.' When you're there, you go to each of the levels of the game, or 'holes,' in order to hit the 'golf ball' as far as you can, trying to get it into a hole on the other side without landing in water or sand or among trees. Then you count up how many hits it took you, and the goal is to make the ball go into the 'hole' in fewer hits, or 'strokes,' than what is expected."

"That's kind of boring." Padma turned back to the game.

"My papa plays it all the time. It is boring." 

"Oh, look at Harry Potter dive!" Antigone tugged on Padma's sleeve and pointed at Harry, who had sunk into a dive. Padma could see how he'd gotten onto the team—he was flat against his broom, the wind whipping past him as he and the Slytherin Seeker dived for the flash of gold hovering in the air. Harry looked to be only inches from it when suddenly the Slytherin captain—a big bulky boy named Marcus Flint—slammed into Harry and nearly knocked him off his broom. All around Carolina she could hear the cries of outrage from the Gryffindors, and cheers from the Slytherins as Harry fought to regain balance. 

"What in the name of Merlin was that disgusting bit of cheating?" Marilyn was on her feet, squealing and hissing. "Send him to the showers!" 

"What?" Parvati, Padma, and Cho all said at the same time.

"The showers! I've been to American baseball games and when someone does something that mean they get sent to the showers." Marilyn grumbled and sat down. 

"What does taking a shower have to do with cheating?" Padma asked. 

Marilyn looked at Padma like she had sprouted horns. "It means that the player is out of the game."

"For taking a shower?" 

Marilyn shook her head. "Never mind." 

Carolina whispered in Padma's ear. "It's another Muggle sport."

"Oh, okay." 

"Shh!" Lawrence was staring at the game through his binoculars, watching intently, when he gasped. "What's the Potter kid doing?" 

"What?" Padma asked. 

Lawrence pulled his binoculars off and pointed at a jerking speck in the sky. "He's lost control of his broom or something. He's going higher and higher. It looks like he's going to fall off!" 

*~*~*

Morag immediately got to his feet, watching as Harry's broom started to shake back and forth like a bucking pony. Seconds later, it started to roll, and finally the broom gave a lurch and Harry tumbled off. He only managed to hang on with one hand, but it wasn't a firm hold, and the wrong shake could loosen him. The crowd gasped in fear, while Morag's mouth fell open. Antigone ducked her head into Morag's shoulder. "Tell me when it's over!" she sniffled. 

"What's going on?" Morag asked, shoving Lawrence to catch his attention. 

"I don't know—it looks like he's being shaken off the broom. But that can't be it—the Slytherins might be slimy gits but they can't curse a Nimbus 2000, can they?"

"I wouldn't put it past them." Morag snorted. _Even more reason to worry about this uncle of mine, if he's from that house,_ he thought to himself. Antigone's fingers were digging tightly into his arm, and he tried to pry her fingers a bit looser. One of the Gryffindor Beaters—he had red hair, like Ron Weasley, and was probably his brother—flew towards the dangling Seeker as Harry hung on determinedly. He reached to pull Harry towards him, but the broom jerked away. The other Beater, who was the perfect twin of the first, flew toward Harry's other side and made the same reach for him, but the broom snatched Harry away and started to shake, as if it wanted to make him let go. Out of the corner of his eye Morag saw the same boy that had slammed into Harry—the announcer, Lee Jordan, had called him Flint—take the Quaffle and score five times while the Gryffindor Keeper, looking very worried, also flew towards Harry. Morag bit his lips under the tension of it all, and stared at the stands across from them—he didn't want to see Harry fall. 

Across the stands stood Professor Snape, staring at Harry and muttering under his breath. Morag's eyes widened—_surely Snape didn't hate Harry so much that he would try to kill him? There had to be a reason. _He looked down the row of professors and saw that Professor Quirrell was staring at Harry as well, only without blinking. He jerked his eyes to one side, and Harry's broom jerked along with it. Snape muttered faster. _By Merlin! Quirrell's trying to kill him as well!_ Morag was about to shout across the stands when he saw a bushy head run past and knock Professor Quirrell into the row in front. He pitched forward, holding tightly on to his turban. Morag looked up. Harry's broom stopped shaking, and he saw Harry scramble back aboard it just before Morag spied that same bushy head of hair sneak back across the stands. Seconds later, Professor Snape screamed—the hem of his robes were on fire and the faculty around him were helping him stamp out the flames. Morag wondered just what had happened. _First the cheating, then the broom—and I don't think Snape was cursing it. No, I'm_ sure _he wasn't. He might be mean and House serving, but he's not trying to kill Harry. But what was Quirrell doing? Bugger it all, it's all very confusing_

Morag blinked, then nudged Antigone. "Let me go, Tig, he's safe now." Antigone lifted her head just as Antigone lifted her head just as Harry dived to the ground. Suddenly, he clamped his hand to his mouth and jerked back, flushing green, then tumbled onto the field on all fours and started coughing.

"He's going to be sick!" Padma squealed. 

"I'd be sick too, being bounced around like a baby in a clothes dryer," Carolina replied. 

"A baby in a what?" 

"Never mind." 

"He's not sick!" Antigone squealed. "He caught the Snitch!" For Harry was now holding up something that flashed gold and screaming, "I've caught the Snitch!" Shrieks of confusion, of joy and of outrage (from the Slytherins), filled the stands. Flint landed on the pitch howling, and stormed over to Madame Hooch. 

"Is that legal?" Carolina asked.

Cho shrugged. "Nowhere in the official rules does it say the Seeker has to use his hands to catch the Snitch. Gryffindor win, one hundred seventy to sixty." 

*~*~*

Antigone watched as Hermione, Ron and Hagrid, the Gamekeeper, scrambled down and swept Harry off the field with hushed whispers. She wondered what that was about, but kept it to herself. "Are Quidditch games normally this chaotic, Lawrence?" Antigone asked. 

Lawrence was cleaning off his binoculars. "Not this bad, no, but stillI can't believe he caught the Snitch in his mouth." He laughed and pointed. "Flint's still down there whining about it. He's just mad his cheating didn't succeed. Oh well." 

Antigone was going to ask more but Morag tugged on her sleeve. Antigone looked over and then remembered _That's right, Morag was going to tell me more after the game tonight._ She followed behind him as they filed out of the stands. If anyone asked, they decided to say they were returning their library books, or renewing them, possibly. As soon as they got back to the common room they would duck off to the library. Morag felt a tap on the shoulder as they shuffled out, and they both turned to see Padma. "Hey, Morag?" she asked. 

"Yes?" Morag gave Padma a quizzical look. Carolina had already left with the other Ravenclaw First Years, and Padma's twin was asking her to come with her and the Gryffindor girls however. 

"Did you ever give that note to its rightful owner?"

Morag's eyes widened for a split second, then he shook his head. "I lost it on the way out of the Great Hall." 

Antigone blinked. _That's not the truth!_ She opened her mouth to say that wasn't the case at all, but Morag jabbed her in the side just enough to quiet her. It didn't hurt, only startled her. 

"Oh. Well, I hope it got to the right person." Padma looked like she was going to say more, but her twin was tugging on her to come on. "See you in the common room, then." 

"Of course." 

Antigone waited for Padma to walk off before she turned to Morag. "Morag," she whispered, "that was a lie."

"Yes it was." Morag kept striding forward in the direction of the large front doors, and Antigone had to sprint to catch up. 

"But lying's wrong. No matter the reason, you're not supposed to lie about things." 

Morag waited until they were alone in the hallway, then looked at Antigone sharply. It wasn't a cold look, more a look of disbelief. "You've never lied about anything? Ever?" 

"No." _It's best not to speak at all, or to avoid the topic altogether and never slip up. Constant vigilance. _

Morag took Antigone's face in his hands and pulled it so that they were nose to nose. His grey eyes stared into hers, almost as if he were staring into her soul. "Antigone, I'm going to tell you something very important—something that you should take to heart." 

His voice was low, but very firm, and Antigone could tell that he believed in what he would say. She tried to break his glance, but it was too strong. She had to make do with a whispered, "Yes?" 

"I don't care what you've been told in your past, or what you may hear in your future. Listen to me and listen well. There are times where it not only is okay to lie, it's best if you do. Got that? It is okay to lie." 

"II guess." 

"Good." He let go of Antigone's face and continued. "Let's get our books and head to the library." 

As they walked off, Antigone tumbled Morag's statement around in her head. A little bit of her father's truths had been shattered—a lot had been questioned with that book, but Morag had been the first to actually challenge one outright. _It's okayit's okay to lie?_

The Chapter has ended. 


	8. The Start of Vacation

**Title:** Birds of a Feather First Flight: Chapter 7: Battles on Broomsticks  
**Author name:** Nethilia  
**Author email:** nethilia@yahoo.com   
**Category:** Novel length. Drama/Angst.  
**Keywords:** Ravenclaw, novel-length, Harry era, 1991-1998, Cho   
**Spoilers:** All the books  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** As we all know, there's four houses in Hogwarts--just because Harry gets all the glory doesn't mean the other houses don't have things happen there! Follow the story of the Ravenclaws of Harry's year.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to Beta readers Haggridd and Madhuri. AIM: Kittikattie. Fic also on personal HP site at http://www.cepheid.org/~marshamllow/birdsofafeather. 

Author's Notes: Once again, real life gets in the way of fic writing--hopefully nothing will get in the way of my next installment. 

This one is not as full of plot as I would like it to be, but I picked a good stopping point. There will be more about my group's winter vacation in the next installment, including an unexpected visitor at Hogwarts, courtesy of a certain letter...

Thanks to Haggridd and Madhuri--I'm such a pain, yes, I know. Thank you. 

*~*~*

Chapter 8:  
The Start of Vacation

_"It's freezing!" _Carolina held her hands close to her bubbling cauldron in Potions class, hoping to warm her cold fingers while Snape inspected their solutions. Antigone shivered beside her, their breath coming out in thick mists. They were most grateful when Snape dismissed them all with only a minimum of points taken away, and they could scramble back to Ravenclaw Corners. The First-Years headed back to the common room_ en masse_, but Morag wasn't among them. He had left his book behind, and was running back to get it. The look on his face when he realized _where_ he'd left it showed that he would rather eat slugs than go back to Snape's Dungeon, but he had no choice. It was his book, and he was a Ravenclaw.

As soon as they made it inside, Carolina let out a sigh of comfort as she sank into a chair, glad that the Ravenclaw Corners' fire made the entire common room warm and toasty in the evenings. It had been extremely drafty in the halls since the heavy snowfall last week. She was also happy that the Christmas break began in just a few days. Last week Professor McGonagall had taken the names of those who would be going home on the Hogwarts Express, and Carolina had signed up immediately. 

"I can't wait to go home," she sighed. "A nice long break to catch up on casual reading instead of everything being for class. I already wrote Papa and told him that I'm coming home." 

"Bet he can't wait," Padma said. "I know Mother and Father are eager to see to see Parvati and me. So's my baby brother Amar, though he probably hasn't noticed much. I bet he's grown a lot now." 

"Bet you can't wait to see your parents either, Antigone." Carolina smiled.

Antigone stared over at the wall, petting Shadow who was asleep in her lap. "I'm not going home, actually." 

"Not going home! Why not?" Carolina looked at Antigone in disbelief. "Don't you want to see your mom and dad over the holidays? They probably miss you a lot." 

"I do want to see my mum very badly—and my dad, of course," Antigone added hurriedly, stumbling on her last words as if they weren't quite the truth. "They might miss me as well, but I don't think they'll mind that I'm staying over Christmas."

"But they haven't seen you since September," Padma asked concernedly, looking up from the Transfiguration book in her lap. "I'm sure that your father and mother would love to hear about what you've done since you came here."

"Maybe you can even show them some of the spells you've practiced, even though we shouldn't do magic over the breaks. I'm going to show my papa a few spells. Little minor ones. I bet they would love to see real magic." Carolina grinned brightly at Antigone, hoping to get a pleasant reaction.

She got quite another reaction. Antigone whimpered as though she'd been locked up and kicked, all the while staring at the Fourth Year's wall as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. She wouldn't say another word to either one of them, looking as if she was fighting back tears. 

Carolina blinked. "What'd I say wrong?" she asked. Antigone didn't reply. 

"Come on, Tig," Padma pleaded, "Tell us, so we'll know not to say it again. You're one of the best witches in our class, especially at Charms. Wouldn't you like to show others how good you are at magic, especially your family?" She leaned over to touch Antigone on the arm. Antigone pulled back as if Padma's hand were on fire, her eyes wide. With an outburst of tears, she leapt to her feet (dumping Shadow on the floor in the process) and ran out of the common room fast as she could, tears running down her face. 

Carolina watched Antigone run off, hurt at her friend's reaction. Padma looked like she'd been slapped. _What'd I say wrong to make her clam up like that? I don't even know what I did wrong to deserve such a harsh reaction. She should tell me what I said wrong, at least. And I'm supposed to be her best friend _Even Shadow looked confused, meowing his distress.

Morag walked in a few seconds later, his book under his arm. "Snape almost took points off for returning to his classroom! I'd rather have left my book with Peeves!" He stopped speaking when he saw Carolina slumped over in her chair, sniffling. "What'd I miss?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face. 

"I just asked Antigone why she wasn't going home over the Christmas break." Carolina's lower lip trembled. "I must have touched a nerve, because when I said that she would probably like to show off some things she learned, she clammed up and wouldn't say another word to Padma or me. Then we asked about her family again, and she took off running." 

Morag sighed and set his book down. He didn't sound aggravated, only upset at the way Antigone had acted. "I'll go see if I can find her. I didn't see her run past me, but logic dictates she's somewhere on the grounds. I'll be back with her, okay?" 

Carolina bit her lip to fight her tears. "O—okay." She watched Morag head back out the door, then looked over at Padma. "I don't know what I did to deserve that."

"Neither do I." Padma's eyes reflected the hurt Carolina was feeling. "She's never reacted like that, no matter what we asked. We must have touched a sore spot, or something." 

"She's supposed to be my friend—my best friend, as a matter of fact-- but she acted as though I hit her or something."

"I don't know what's wrong with her," Padma said. "I wish she'd tell me." 

Carolina nodded, miserable. _I wish she would tell me too._
    
    *~*~*

Morag sighed heavily as he made his way up and down the corridors. It was bad enough that he had to endure the Potions Master's sneering glare when he went back to retrieve his book from Snape's classroom. Now Antigone was overreacting to what had probably been a harmless and sincere comment about her family, and had hurt Carolina and Padma—most likely without realizing she had done so. It didn't help that he hadn't heard anything from his uncle since that last letter. It was enough to make him go ask Professor McGonagall if he could still sign up to go home instead of staying with Antigone over the Christmas break-- but he wouldn't break his promise to her.

He was almost to the great hall when he heard noises behind a suit of armor. "Antigone?" he asked, hoping it was her.

"Yes?" a voice asked softly. He quietly looked around it to see Antigone curled up behind the armor, sniffling heavily. 

Morag kneeled down on the cold stones and leaned towards her. "Antigone, Carolina and Padma told me you ran out of the common room crying when they asked you why you were going home."

Antigone looked embarrassed, but nodded. 

"Now why'd you react like that, Tig? Carolina thinks she's committed a crime just this side of assault, and Padma looks like a whipped puppy. There's no reason to act like you've been insulted beyond reproach. You really should go back and apologize, and you know it!"

"I—I know. But...but..." Antigone started to tear up again. "I can't go home to my family and show them real magic. It's bad enough I'm here at Hogwarts—going home would only make the situation worse."

"Bad enough you're here? Tig, what do you mean by that?" Morag sat fully down on the stones, ignoring the chill. "Antigone, were your parents going to stop you from coming to Hogwarts?" 

Antigone nodded sadly, but didn't say anything. 

"Why?"

Antigone looked up at Morag, eyes full of tears. "Do you promise not to tell Padma or Carolina anything until I say you can?" Her eyes were pleading, almost mournful.

Morag hesitated, then sighed. "I promise."

Antigone's buried her face in Morag's shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. "Daddy hates magic." 

*~*~*

Padma turned to see the door open and Morag and Antigone walk in. "He found her!" 

Carolina looked up from her book and broke into a smile. "Good, maybe we'll finally understand why she acted like that." They both rose to their feet, but Morag turned to them and gave them a look that clearly said, "Wait." Antigone followed him, silent. Her eyes were red rimmed, but she hadn't said anything or even looked up from the floor.

Morag motioned for her to come over to the wall design. Antigone and he had become the best in Charms over the term, and so they had been appointed to add the final charms to the almost completed design. The competition was that Sunday, since everyone was heading home on Monday. Antigone scrambled over to the First Year Wall, pretending to be very fascinated with the charm she was going to perform. Morag nodded and then walked over to Padma and Carolina as Antigone started to add sparkles to the wall.

"She's okay now," he said, sitting in a chair. "You touched a nerve, but she understands you didn't mean to."

"So why'd she run off like that? She scared us half to death." Padma looked worriedly at Morag. 

"And why wouldn't she want to go home?" Carolina added.

Morag sighed, then looked at Antigone. "Her father's against magic." 

Padma's eyes widened in shock. "Against magic? But why?" 

"That I can't tell you. That's all she told me." 

Padma gave Morag a look that clearly said he was hiding something, but Morag didn't blink. _I think Morag's lying again. I wish he wasn't so good at it, I cant tell if he's honest or not._ She was about to ask more, but Carolina cut her off.

"Why'd she tell you before me? I thought I was her best friend. I've confided my secrets to herbut she won't do the same." Her voice trailed off. 

"I don't know, Carolina," Morag replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But she did tell me to tell you." 

Carolina brushed his hand off, glaring past him and at Antigone. "I hate finding things out through a third party." Then without another word, Carolina spun around and stormed towards her dorm, slamming the door behind her and knocking one of the glass ornaments off the First Year wall. It shattered at Antigone's feet, startling her. 

"Dammit," Morag cursed. "How are we going to fix that?" 

"Move away, move away!" Penelope Clearwater made her way to the wall, her wand out. "_Reparo_," she said, pointing her wand at the shards. They flew together and resealed, the ornament as good as new. 

"Thanks," Padma said as Morag hovered the ornament back to its place on the wall. 

Penelope shrugged. "No use in having to try and clean it up the Muggle way. I hate dustpans, and you never get the glass completely off the floor." She returned to her books.

Padma looked at Antigone. She still looked upset—Padma could tell Antigone's moods now, though she managed to hide them well for the most part. A wizard or witch had to really know Antigone to know the way she showed her emotions. Right now Padma could see that Carolina's reaction had unnerved her. _Carolina has a pointTig should tell us things and not make us have to figure it out ourselves. But she didn't have to be mean to Antigone. She is her friend._

Padma picked up her books and headed to the dorm to put them away. _But why would a Muggle hate magic, unless they were given a reason?_

*~*~* 

Sunday night was a very celebratory time at Ravenclaw Corners. Everyone who was going home would be on the Hogwarts Express first thing in the morning. All the other girls in Antigone's dorm had packed their things. Antigone had not, of course, as she was staying here. Carolina hadn't said a word to Antigone since her outburst a few days before. Antigone couldn't fault her, exactly, since she hadn't been completely honest with her—but it still hurt. 

All around the common room, students were exchanging presents and chatting. A bunch of Sixth and Seventh-Years had brought food from the kitchens and butterbeer from Hogsmeade, and everyone was feasting. Antigone noted that, though Carolina was sitting near Morag, Padma and herself around one of the tables with all the First-Years, she wasn't saying a thing to her if at all possible. Antigone sighed, softly, sipping her butterbeer in the silence.

There was a loud clap from one of the Ravenclaw prefects—Manny Rawling, a Sixth-Year—and everyone turned to face him. "My fellow Ravenclaws, now is the time to reveal the designs for the class walls. I know you've all been working on them since the start of the term. Unless you're a Sixth-Year, that is, because they've been doing things at the last minute their whole time at Hogwarts." This got giggles from the Sixth-Years. "The designs will be revealed in descending order, as usual, starting with the Seventh-Years, and everyone can then see the fruit of our labors."

Antigone watched quietly as the charmed veil draped over the Seventh-Year door fell away to display their wall. She thought it looked much better than the First-Year wall—then again, the Seventh-Years were only a few terms away from being fully trained wizards and witches. She turned to look at Carolina, who had moved and now was sitting at the far end of the bench between Lisa and Mandy. Padma was still sitting with Antigone and Morag—Carolina was the only one who wasn't with them. _I should tell herbut I'm scared to tell anyone. Morag only got as much as he did because he found me first._ Antigone looked at her lap. _Then—then why didn't Carolina come look for me? If she's really supposed to care for me that much wouldn't she have come after me?_

Her thoughts were broken by Manny's voice. "And now, last but not least, the First-Years!"

"That's our cue," Morag said, rising to his feet. Antigone stood up beside him, trembling. Performing charms in front of Professor Flitwick and the class was one thing, but in front of all of Ravenclaw Corners—what if she messed up? 

Morag held up his wand, pointing at the dark blue curtains that had been hung around the doors. Moving their wands in opposite directions, the two chanted, "_Movova!_" The curtains parted, revealing the fully decorated wall. Antigone had yet to see the completed wall. 

Across the top of the door hung ornaments and decorations that the Muggle-born First-Years had brought with them or had sent from home. Antigone had added a soft _Lumos _charm so that they each had a little aura around them making them glitter and shine independent of the firelight. The area around each door was covered in thick velvety fabric that Mandy had asked her mother, a fashion designer, to send her. Morag had added shimmers to the cloth so that it rippled in varied shades of blue looking like a waterfall. All over both doors were pictures of each of the First Years— Carolina had learned how to develop her pictures so that they moved, and had set them in small frames. All over both doors were pictures of each of the First-Years: There was Oliver, bouncing up and down and waving excitedly; Carolina with Nike on her arm, flapping her wings softly and looking around with her large owl's eyes; Padma and Morag on brooms, zipping back and forth; Lisa, grinning and holding her pet cat Bobby; even Antigone was there, peering shyly over _As The Gods Make It_ with Shadow perched on her shoulder. The centerpiece was a picture of them all in brilliant color, waving and hugging each other while Lisa and Joseph held up a banner reading "Ravenclaw First Years, 1991." 

Manny clapped as hard as he had for the other designs. "Shall we vote now?" There were unanimous nods around the room. Manny walked over towards the center, stepping down from the table on which he'd been standing. "Hold your hand up for the door you like the best. No double voting—I'm very accurate with my Arithmancy and I'll know. No voting for your own door." 

" No voting for your own door'?" Antigone asked Padma. "Why not?"

"Cho told me about this—this is the first year this was put in place. The Seventh-Years who graduated last year voted as a bloc for their own wall, and won almost every time. Plus, it's kind of unfair to vote for yourself." 

Antigone nodded, and held up her hand for the Fourth-Year wall which had been charmed to snow--a fine sprinkling that started at the top of the doors and dissolved as soon as it hit the stone floor. Finally, Manny pointed his wand towards the First-Year wall.

Hands rose at every table. Antigone was happy to see that Cho and Lawrence had their hands up and were waving them enthusiastically. Even some of the Seventh-Years had their hands up. Manny looked around and waved his wand over the group, as he'd done for each of the walls before, then pointed to the piece of parchment posted on the main doors. "_Tablulata_!" he announced, and numbers blossomed on the paper. They started to shift and move around, showing all the votes that had been counted. Finally, the numbers stopped shifting and the parchment rolled up. Manny walked over and pulled it from the door, unrolling it and stepping back onto the table. "Hmm... third place goes to the Sixth-Years for their rendition of _The First Christmas at Hogwarts._ Second goes to the Fourth-Years, with their _Snow Falling on Fourth-Years._" 

Manny took a deep breath. "And first place goes tohmm, this is definitely a first since I've been at Hogwarts. "And First place goes to the First-Years, for their _First Shots Display!_" 

*~*~*

Carolina cheered and hugged Mandy. "We won! We won!" She could barely contain her excitement. It had been fairly tough, learning to develop the pictures so that they didn't stay still. She had gone through a goodly amount of photopaper and various shots that were of poor quality before getting the best ones for the wall. She turned to see Antigone happily squeezing Morag's hand, and a streak of jealousy went through her. She hadn't spoken to Antigone since she'd gone storming out of the dorm a few weeks back. She was still upset that Antigone hadn't spoken to her first. Antigone seemed to get closer and closer to Morag since their detention. Still Carolina felt left out, as the other three were seated together and apart from her. 

"So what do we get as a prize?" Joseph asked, saying out loud what all the First-Years were probably thinking.

"The satisfaction of knowing you bested all the other classes?" Manny teased. The First-Years collectively shot him a look that would melt steel. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" Manny recanted, holding up his hands. "Can't put anything past you guys, can I?" He reached into a bag by his foot and pulled out what appeared to be ten wrapped packages. "Some of these set some of us older kids back a bit, but we never reneg on a promise. Each of the books you asked for as a prize, special order from Flourish and Blotts." He grinned as he handed each of them a package.

Carolina squealed with delight. She'd listed _Maria and the Griffin of West End, _as she'd been looking at Padma's copy and wanted one of her own. However, when she opened it, it wasn't the book she'd asked for. Instead it was a copy of _As The Gods Make It._ She knew exactly who it was for—Antigone had reluctantly returned the school's copy only when Madam Pince had said keeping the book out for well over a month and a half was "pushing it."

She looked at Antigone, who had just turned up to look at her. They stared at each other tensely, then Carolina rose to her feet and made her way to Antigone. She didn't look at her as she thrust the book at her, whispering, "I believe that I've gotten your book by mistake." 

Antigone looked up at Carolina, and Carolina saw out of the corner of her eye that that she was fighting back tears. Carolina, however, was not going to back down until Antigone apologized first. She felt Antigone take the book and hand over her own. There was a moment of silence, then Carolina started to walk back over to where Mandy and Lisa sat. 

"Carolina?" Antigone's voice was little more than a whisper. 

Carolina turned around, looking at Antigone. "Yes, Antigone?" she replied, refusing to use her nickname.

Antigone looked at her feet, where Shadow was batting around the wrapper of her book. "Nothing." 

_Nothing. You know, it's really annoying when you don't tell me anything, Tig. _Carolina turned back around and sat between Mandy and Lisa. "What was that all about?" Mandy said, holding her copy of _Draconea Dracae: A Beginning Study of Dragons. _(Once Mandy had discovered the dragons she had always liked as a small child were real—though not as nice as she had dreamed—she had poured her free studies into learning all she could about dragons.) 

"Nothing important." _If she says it's nothing, I'll treat it as such._

The next morning, when Carolina and Padma were heading out to catch the Hogwarts Express back to London, Carolina didn't say anything more than a passing "good-bye" to Morag and Antigone. Padma gave them both tight hugs and told them to take care before heading out to the carriages. Padma waited until they were alone in a compartment on the train before turning to Carolina. "Don't you think you've been a little cold to Antigone since that whole incident about her father? You do know that you're hurting their feelings."

"If she really cared about anybody's feelings, she wouldn't have made Morag tell me for her." 

"She did the same to me, you know, and I'm not acting all up in arms about it." 

Carolina shrugged and opened the book. She had decided to read it on the train ride home. When she opened it, her eyes widened. 

"What is it, Carolina?" Padma asked, looking over Carolina's shoulder. 

Carolina held out a piece of neatly folded parchment, written in Antigone's neatest script. Beside it was one of the pictures Carolina hadn't used on the wall—of her and Antigone, hugging each other closely and waving. Antigone had one of her rare smiles on her face—Antigone almost never smiled widely for any reason—and Carolina was grinning broadly. The two waved at Carolina, and she stared at it before reading the letter. 

"Dearest Carolina, 

I know that you're very upset that I had Morag tell you about my father's not liking magic. I should have told you face to face, rather than having him speak for me. It's a very touchy subject with me and I don't like addressing it, but that's no excuse. I hope that you can forgive me. I'm not upset that you're not speaking to me still, but I hope that your present makes up for it. 

On that topic, I didn't get to give you your Christmas present today. I meant to, but I didn't have a moment with you, and what I had to give you is very personal. I had to do the best I could. Look in your suitcase as soon as you get home; I'll see you after the holidays. Hope to speak to you then.

Still your dearest friend, even if you are no longer mine,   
Antigone

Carolina looked down at the note, and guilt swarmed over her. _Antigone's not mad at me! andand she still got me something_ She reached into her tote and pulled out a small roll of parchment. 

"What are you doing?" Padma said, with a tone that clearly said she knew exactly what Carolina was doing. 

"Writing an apology note to Antigone. She's right, I've been beastly to her since that day." 

Padma leaned back and munched on a Chocolate Frog. "I knew switching your orders would work." 

Carolina looked up from her letter. "You what?" 

"I knew that Antigone was too timid to speak to you when you'd brushed her off so coolly, and I knew that you are as pig-headed as a Gryffindor when it comes to apologizing for anything. so Morag and I went to Manny yesterday and told him to switch your orders around without telling either of you. Then I had Antigone write a note of apology to you and slide it in the book right before you switched back." 

Carolina gasped. "How deceptive!" 

"It worked, yes?" Padma licked the chocolate neatly off her fingers. "Now finish your note so we can send it off soon as we get to London." 

Carolina grinned, knowing Padma was right, and continued writing. 

The chapter has now ended


	9. A Winter Break Worth Mentioning

This chapter is mostly focused on Antigone and Morag. Why? Cause it is, that's why. Nah, really, we know that Carolina and Padma are having a wonderful time at home, so I want to focus on these two. I'll pay it back with a chaper on Carolina and Padma later. 

Great gods, this was a hard chapter to write! I know it's been months and months, but my classes were throttling me. Stupid classes/summer/etc. Well, thank goodness it's out, anyways. 

Thanks Haggridd and Madhuri for Beta reading.

*~*~*

Chapter 9   
A Winter Break Worth Mentioning

Morag woke up Christmas morning to complete silence. He found this odd, because Terry Boot was known to snore in his sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he remembered that he was the only first-year boy who had remained at Hogwarts. He looked at the pile of presents at the foot of his bed-- when he had said that he was staying in the dorm for the holidays, his mother had promised to owl him all his presents. He wondered how many owls it had taken-- the pile was a bit on the large side-- when there was a knock on the door. He sleepily pulled on his robe and opened it to see Antigone in her dressing gown and slippers, with a gaily-wrapped box in her hands. 

"Happy Christmas, Morag," she said, grinning and handing him the box. 

"Happy Christmas, Antigone." Morag replied. 

"Do you mind if I come in? I'm the only other First-Year who stayed behind, and I don't think the few prefects that are here are even awake. We could open our presents together." 

Morag thought about it a moment, then nodded. "I don't see why not. Where?"

"Why not in one of our dorms? We're the only First-Years still here." 

"Won't we get in trouble, Tig?"

Antigone shrugged, looking at her feet. "Well, truebut so long as either of the two prefects that stayed behind doesn't see us in the same dorm, what harm would it do? It's not as though they go peeking in the dorms anyway, at least not this early. I saw both of them go to bed rather late." 

Morag gave Antigone a friendly push. "Act like this again and I'll start teasing you about belonging in Gryffindor or something. Your dorm or mine?"

"Yours-- my boxes are smaller and we can move them more easily." 

Morag nodded. Quietly they went into Antigone's room and picked up her packages—most of them were small and neat. Shadow followed the two back to Morag's dorm and got inside just before the door closed on his tail. 

"Shall we open them all at once or go back and forth?" asked Antigone as she sat on the bed with Morag. 

"Back and forth," Morag said, picking one from his mother. "Ladies first." 

Antigone blushed slightly and opened one from her aunt. There was a neat little card on the outside, wishing Antigone the best, and when she opened it a warm blue sweater with silvery-white trim was enclosed. She sighed and hugged it to her, rubbing her cheek against a sleeve. "Mummy must have told her my house colors! My aunt always makes me the nicest sweaters for the winter, and just the right size. Oh, and it's of the softest yarn too."

Morag nodded his appreciation, and opened the one from his mother. It was her standard gift to him since he had gotten older: five Galleons and a brand new book. When he opened it, the pictures didn't move. He was almost tempted to shake it and make the people move when he looked at the spine. "Oh, _Treasure Island._ It's a Muggle book. Silly me, I'm so used to the pictures moving that I thought it wasn't reacting right." 

Antigone stuck her tongue out at Morag and opened a box from Padma. "Oh, wonderful! She gave me five Chocolate Frogs. Open yours from her, I bet it's the same thing." It was, in fact, and they munched on the Chocolate Frogs as they continued opening packages. 

Lawrence Hilbourgh had given each of them a gift package of candies from Honeydukes, including Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans and Drooble's Best-Blowing Gum. Morag was pleased with his gifts: a book on Quidditch was from Carolina Kipley (who had noticed his adoration of the game) along with a large stack of cookies she had baked while at home. Instead of a book, Antigone had received a very large plush bear with a big bow charmed to change color gradually, along with an apology for how she'd been acting before she had left (which Antigone read to herself in private). From Cho Chang there was a small bundle of Color-Shifting Sticks, a type of peppermint stick that changed colors each time you licked it. 

Morag was setting the gifts from Miriam and Aunt Opaline to the side (Miriam had given him two Galleons; Aunt Opaline had given him a box of double-chocolate fudge) when he saw Antigone pick up the last gift she had, a tiny box. He had politely refrained from mentioning the small size of her stack of presents. She hadn't gotten anything from the rest of her family, while he had gotten small things from his mother's sisters and brother. Only her mother had given her a gift, a witch doll with long dark hair dressed in a pretty blue velvet cloak and matching robes, with a note attached that said Esmerelda had picked it out for her at Diagon Alley and so it was a gift from the two of them. There was also a cat toy for Shadow, a ball of Self-Winding Yarn that rolled itself back up as Shadow batted it around with a little bit of catnip in the center. "Where's that one from, Tig?" 

Antigone picked up the note attached to the slim box. "Well, that's strange. It only says, To Antigone Moon, from someone who cares about you. Take care of it.' " Inside was a long silver chain, and dangling from it was a blue-black circle with small twinkles of light behind it and a tiny silvery-white crescent moon on one side. She gasped as she looked at it, holding it so that it twirled in the light. "Great Merlin! It's gorgeous!"

"Looks to have cost a goodly amount of Galleons," Morag said. "Pure silver?"

"Most likely." Antigone held it in her hands. "Feels like it. Oh, and it's warm!"

"Wait a minute. We're at crescent moon now, right?" 

"Yes—that's what I remember from astronomy class." Antigone looked at her pendant. "So's the pendant."

"I think that's a Luni Pendant. I read about them in _Magical Jewelry Monthly_."

"Why were you reading that?"

Morag sighed heavily. "Having a girl's name gets you some of the oddest junk mail. Anyways, those are very expensive. I think it said about forty-four Galleons."

"How much would that be in pounds?" 

"About two hundred and twenty pounds. And that's not counting the chain." 

"Two hundred and twenty pounds! Who would have that kind of money in my family?" 

"I don't know, Tig. It looks a little old, actually, like an heirloom."

"But Mummy doesn't have any types of heirlooms like this I knew about." 

"Well, we'll figure that out later. You were told to take care of it, right? Well, do that until we find the giver." 

Antigone nodded. "I should put it on." She hooked it neatly around her neck. 

Morag grinned as she held it up again. "It looks good on you." 

"Thanks. Open your last one." She pointed to Morag's last gift; he had opened two at once at some point so that they would end at the same time. It was a neat little parchment envelope, and once he saw the "Miss Morag MacDougal" he knew exactly who it was from. 

"My uncle wrote back!" he said, opening the note. 

"He still addresses them 'Miss Morag'? Haven't you told him you're a wizard?"

"I haven't thought about it, honestly. I'll read it aloud." Antigone scooted near him to read along. 

Dear Morag,

I am sorry I have not replied since November. I was very glad to hear you are doing well in class and are a Ravenclaw as well. You seem like a very bright witch (at this Morag inwardly groaned) and are probably doing well at Hogwarts. 

The reason I did not reply is because I wanted to make sure this was perfect before I owled you back. My plans were hampered somewhat, but I have finalized them and they can be carried out now. You are on winter holiday, yes? This means that, unless you are at Hogwarts, you should be able to get to Hogsmeade for at least a day, especially if you can ask Miriam or Opaline. 

I want to see you with my own eyes. I will be at The Three Broomsticks on the 27th of December from nine a.m. until two p.m. Just look for a tall man with red hair in a hooded black cloak at one of the corner tables. There are things about which I would rather speak to my niece in person. 

Your uncle, 

Alexander MacDougal 

Morag reread the letter, hovering over the part about the Three Broomsticks. "That's two days from now." 

"I know. But we're both here at Hogwarts and while it's not that much of a journey to Hogsmeade—Lawrence said it was an hour's walk—it's not going to be easy to get there from here. We'll have to turn him down." 

"We?" 

"Do you think I'm going to let you go meet some stranger you don't know by yourself? Even if it is your uncle. Either way, you have to turn it down."

Morag sighed heavily. "Yes, I wi—wait. There's a post script. P.S. If you are at Hogwarts, then you'll have to be a little more sneaky. Take the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade. Go rub the gold-trimmed mirror on the fourth floor along the left side with your wand, and it'll open up to a secret passage. It's a long walk, but you'll come out right behind the Three Broomsticks in the wooded area. It's safe.' "

Antigone sighed. "Well, we're going then?"

"Of course we are! I'll owl him back tonight." 

"Morag, we could get in trouble! It's probably perilous!"

"What are our school days if not a time to get into a little bit of peril? Only this once, Tig."

Antigone sighed, twirling her necklace. "Well, then tell him you're bringing a friend."

"I will." Morag pulled out a sheet of parchment and scribbled a note on it. "Lets get your stuff back into your dorm, then get dressed for the feast. It's casual wear and I'm putting on Muggle clothes." 

*~*~*

Antigone enjoyed the Christmas feast immensely. She was wearing her aunt's Christmas present as well as a comfortable pair of slacks. Rather than draw the attention of the other students who had stayed behind to her unusual gift, she dropped her pendant underneath her sweater.

It was a grand feast. There were all types of foods on which to gorge themselves, and wizard crackers (which were nothing like Muggle crackers). When Antigone popped one, it went off with a loud startling bang and a puff of green-gold smoke. Small gifts fell into her hands as a small bird fluttered out. The other Ravenclaws that were their friends had gone home, and since they didn't have to sit at their House tables, they sat together at an end by themselves and ate happily. Antigone cleaned her plate several times. She thought she noticed a slight vibration from her necklace, but she shrugged it off as a side effect of the magic that was happening around them. 

All four of the Weasleys were there, in lumpy knitted sweaters. She noticed that Harry was wearing a neat green one. Even the teachers were enjoying the revelry—Professor Dumbledore was wearing a flowered bonnet instead of his wizard's hat, and Professor McGonagall had an odd looking top hat on her head. After dinner there were delicious flaming puddings, and Antigone noticed the oldest of the Weasleys startle as he bit down on what was discovered to be a Sickle. Snape looked as stern as ever, even with the holly pinned to the outside of his black bat-like robes, but he did crack a smile when a Sixth-Year Slytherin girl leaped out of her seat after a white mouse fell into her lap.

Later, Antigone and Morag walked back with arms loaded with gifts from the crackers. Antigone was most proud of the various decks of cards she had collected, including Exploding Snap cards, and Morag seemed very pleased with the Wizard Chess set he'd gotten—he really liked chess and hadn't played much since he'd left home as the common sets in Ravenclaw Corners were taken by the older students most of the time. After dropping everything off, they grabbed their cloaks and Shadow and headed out the front door. Over near the lake, there were bobbing red heads and one black one engaged in a snowball fight, and some of the Hufflepuffs were over near the trees, engaged in building snowmen. They walked around the lake, talking casually about class and subjects, until it was too cold to continue. 

They returned to the common room and curled up in front of the fire, and Morag taught her how to play chess. It was a little harder than she expected, especially when the pieces kept talking to her and chastising her for bad moves. Morag won the first three games, but Antigone won the fourth. 

After a late dinner where Antigone filled herself with turkey sandwiches and crumpets, she was so sleepy and tired that Morag had to guide her up to Ravenclaw corners, where she changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. Shadow, who had also had his fill of turkey Antigone had brought back for him, curled up on her feet and fell asleep right before Antigone did. 

The next day, curled up in the chairs around the fire, Antigone and Morag read away half the day and played chess in the evening. Antigone was catching on fast; she won half the games that evening. As she went to bed, Morag tapped her on the shoulder. 

"Hmm?" she said softly, a book tucked under her arm. 

"Tomorrow. We're heading out at eleven a.m. to Hogsmeade." He held up a parchment. "Uncle Alex got my owl. He'll be there." 

Antigone swallowed; she had completely forgotten. That ruined her sleep for the night; she spent most of it tossing and turning, worried about them being caught and possibly expelled for sneaking off the grounds. She definitely did not want to get caught. Holding her necklace tight and desperately wishing that they wouldn't be caught, she finally fell asleep late in the night. 

It felt as if she had just fallen asleep when there was a knock on the dorm door. She gulped and got dressed quickly—Morag had told her to put on school robes since they would not stand out as much as Muggle clothes. Grabbing their school bags to make it look as if they were headed for the library (no one would question two Ravenclaws headed for the library) and leaving Shadow in her dorm, the two quietly made their way towards the fourth floor. It would have been easier if one of the staircases hadn't shifted on them halfway up. As they made it to the fourth floor, they started to look for a mirror. It took fifteen minutes of searching until they came to a gilt-framed full-length oval mirror. 

Morag was about to pull out his wand and touch the mirror when Antigone noticed a very distinct vibration from her Luni Pendant. Something was very wrong. "Morag, stop!" she hissed, grabbing Morag's wrist and pushing his wand away from the mirror's edge. 

"What'd you go and do that for?" he hissed, trying to move her away. 

"Something's wrong!" 

"Where'd you get a silly notion like that?"

"It just is! Some—someone's coming!" 

"No one's com" Morag's words died as his eyes widened. Professor Snape had just turned the corner. Morag stuffed his wand up his sleeve just as Professor Snape stopped in front of them. 

Professor Snape glared down at them as he stopped his stride. "Why, may I ask, are two Ravenclaws this far from their common room this early in the morning? One would think you would be asleep or otherwise frittering away your free time while it's there."

Antigone looked at Morag. He looked nervous, but still determined, and she knew that his mouthing off at Snape would be dangerous. She swallowed, then stepped in front and spoke without thinking. "Please, Professor Snape Sir, we're only headed to the library to do some of our homework over the break. I was planning to look up more on asphodel for the report due in your class—the last thing I want is a poor grade in your class, Professor Snape." 

Morag looked at Antigone like she'd just told the biggest lie ever—and for her, it was. She fought the urge to swallow, knowing that would give her away. There was a painful silence, then Snape sneered and Antigone's stomach sank. _I knew itI'm a horrible liar. We're going to get detention._

"Make your way there quickly then. Bookworms as you are, Miss Moon and Mr. MacDougal, we mustn't keep you from your research." He walked past them, and Antigone let out a silent sigh. She felt a soft buzz from her pendant, and she reached up to grab it. 

"Miss Moon, what is that around your neck?" Snape's voice cut through the air like a knife. 

Antigone froze. _Oh no! It's outside my robes!_ "A—a Christmas gift, P-p-p-professor Snape." 

"Looks to be a Luni Pendant. Common, but quite expensive. May I see it?"

Antigone nodded and looked at her feet as she took it off. Snape held it in his hands. Letting it dangle, he spoke again. "A member of your family gave this to you?"

"Yes sir, Professor S-s-s-snape. It's a heirloom." _I hope he doesn't remember that I'm Muggle-bornlet him think I'm a half and half_

"Looks like one." He continued to look at it. "I've seen one once before. A little extravagant for a First-Year, don't you think?" 

_He can't take it! He just _can't_! _"I can't say, sir. I've never seen one before today. Except in catalogues," she quickly recovered. 

He nodded. "Take care of it, Miss Moon. It may be of some use to you." For a moment, he sounded pensive, almost pained. Then, with a firm hand, he shoved it back into her hand. "Off to the library now, the two of you. Hurry." His hand was quite cold, and Antigone detected a faint shaking, like a tremble. She didn't comment on it. 

"Yes, sir," Morag finally spoke as Professor Snape walked off. As he walked off, Morag and Antigone waited for him to turn the corner, and the harsh vibration that Antigone had felt was now imperceptible. 

Morag wasted no time touching his wand to the mirror and watched it swing out. Grabbing the handle on the other side, he pulled Antigone through and shut it behind them, plunging them into darkness. "Oh, what's that bloody spell in the text? _Lumos!_" The room lit up to show that they were on a landing at the top of a long flight of dusty stairs. Antigone cast the same spell with her wand, doubling the light, and Morag looked at her in shock. 

"You lied to Professor Snape," he whispered. 

"Yes, I know that," Antigone replied, gulping. "I was nervous the whole time." 

"And he believed you!" 

Tig nodded. "You told me that it's okay to lie; this was a good time to do so." 

Morag grinned brightly. "Good Tig," he said, ruffling her hair gently. "I don't know how you knew he was coming. Must have been luck."

"Yah," Antigone said, touching her pendant. "Luck." _Luni Pendant Luck._

*~*~*

The stairs led them down for a long length, during which Morag stayed silent. Antigone followed, her wand light bobbing behind her. Finally, they got to the bottom, where a long tunnel stretched off from the tiny cavern at the foot of the stairs. "Looks like a long walk," Morag said, looking down into the darkness. Antigone nodded in agreement. "Well, nothing to do but start walking." 

It was a long walk over tree roots in total darkness except for the glow of their wands. They didn't talk; just walking was effort enough. After about an hour and half, they reached a set of stone stairs that led upwards, covered in slime from the ages. _We'll have to be careful._ "Take my hand, Tig. That way you won't fall." 

Antigone held her bag tightly, nodded and took his hand. It was as far up the stairs as it had been down the previous ones. Luckily, neither one of them slipped, and they soon made it to a small door with a tiny handle. Morag pushed the handle slightly and it swung open to show a wooded area behind a small building. Morag carefully stepped out of the opening to see they were inside a tree. Antigone followed. After pushing the door shut and noting there was a knot on one side that looked like a button, he looked towards the small building. "Well, let's go in." 

Antigone gulped. "Well, we did come all this way." They walked around to the front of the building and looked up to see the sign in front of the inn, labeling it clearly. Inside it was very warm and a bit smoky, and not very crowded—Morag guessed that it was more crowded during a Hogsmeade weekend. A pretty woman was at the bar, serving a small drink to a witch at the counter. Inspecting the persons at the tables, he finally saw a figure in a black cloak nursing a drink in one of the shadowed corners. The firelight reflected off his very red hair. 

"That must be him," Morag whispered. He could feel nervous butterflies in his stomach, and Antigone was very quiet. _Well, it's now or never._ They shuffled over to the table and Morag tapped the table gently. The man lifted his head, a little surprised at having been interrupted. "Mr. Alexander MacDougal?" Morag said softly. 

The wizard nodded and motioned them to sit. He had longer hair than Morag had expected, tied back in a rough ponytail, and small glasses. After the two had sat down he smiled at Antigone. It was a small smile, but warm. "And you must be Morag." He looked a little confused. "Though I must admit, you don't look much look like your father. I thought you would have taken more after him, but no matter." He touched her hand paternally, and Morag could see her tense as Alexander's eyes lit up. "But it's such a delight to finally meet you."

Antigone looked at Morag as if to say, _Correct him!_ Morag sighed and patted his uncle on the hand. "Uncle Alexander (he felt a bit strange thinking of him like this), she isn't Morag, I am. She's my friend Antigone Moon." 

Alexander MacDougal blinked at Morag. There was considerable shock on his face. "You? But you're a wizard!" 

Morag sighed. "Well, my father named me before I was born, and even though my mother begged him to change my name, he said he couldn't." 

"Mavericka" Alexander looked into his drink, then looked at Morag. "Those eyes—there's no doubting that. You do look a lot like my brother's wife Mavericka, but those are Geoffrey's eyes staring back at mine. You must be Morag. But Geoff never told me you were a boy after you were born. I never got to see you—soon after that the group of you all went into hiding and I never saw Geoff until right before his death." Morag flinched at the mention of his father's dying. "But yes. You are Morag. Why didn't you tell me that you were a wizard when I wrote you?"

"I didn't think about it." 

"Well, a mistake is a mistake." He waved over the barmaid, who strutted over to the table. "Rosmerta, could you get me two pints of butterbeer for my nei—I mean, nephew and his friend? And another rum for me." 

Rosmerta raised an eye at the school robes but said nothing. "Sure, Mr. MacDougal." She walked off, and Alex looked at Morag. "Are Mavericka and Opaline here too?"

"No. We stayed at Hogwarts for the break and so had to take that path you told us. How do you know of it, anyway?" 

Alex waved his hand. "There are lots of ways out of Hogwarts if only you know where to look. I took one quite frequently during my time there. And I know I wasn't the only one to use it."

"What House were you in, Mr. MacDougal?" Antigone asked innocently. 

"Same as every member in my family—Opaline and Geoff too. Slytherin."

"Slytherin!" Antigone nearly shrieked, and Morag's fists clenched at the mention. "But that's the house You-Know-Who came from! It's a house of evil!" 

"Calm down, young witch, it's not what you think." Alexander paused as Rosmerta set their drinks on the table, and Morag started sipping on his tankard of butterbeer. It was even better than the bottles Lawrence had brought for Carolina's party—hot, sweet, and warm. "I went to Hogwarts before You-Know-Who ever came to power. When I was a student, Slytherin was as respectable as any other House at Hogwarts. Both of you should learn this now: not all dark witches and wizards are from Slytherin. I'm a very respectable member of society myself, even with the stigma that comes with being a disowned MacDougal." 

"Stigma?" Morag said. "A Slytherin of my year insulted me because I'm not a Slytherin and you say _you_ have a stigma?"

"A very heavy one." Alex sipped his rum. "Thus has my once proud House degenerated thanks to one who must not be named, and I have no way of redemption for my name as well." 

"Once proud? What did you have to be proud of?" Morag said coldly. "You were a Slytherin!"

Alexander grinned, more to himself than anything. "Smart, cunning, slippery as eels. Able to understand both sides, able to see how others operate, able to know that sometimes the ends justifies the means, able to infiltrate without being caught. Morag, some of the best wizards, witches, and Aurors come from the House of the Serpent. But sadly, one bad apple can spoil everything. And the stubborn, proud MacDougals, never one for reason, did not help Slytherins look good in the eyes of others after the Dark Era. Between them and those damned Malfoys" He had a pained look on his face. "And when Geoff married Mavericka, they disowned him. Their firstborn son."

Morag looked at the table, then at his uncle. "Why?"

"Because your mother is a Muggle, dear Morag. Because, before Geoff, no MacDougal had ever married outside of the wizarding world. I have never married, but I loved Geoff as my older brother and would not turn my back on him or his wife for the sake of the family name. Opaline did not marry outside of the blood, but neither did she condemn her beloved older brother. Because Geoffrey tainted the blood of the MacDougal Clan, and because we would not turn our back on our brother, we were all disowned. That is not the only reason, but it is one of them. The MacDougal Clan will not even speak of us with respect—they gave Geoff's title of heir to the second oldest and my other older brother, Brett, and never looked upon us again."

Morag grasped his uncle's hand. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not. I'm only sorry that they are too proud of their pure blood to recognize their firstborn's only son." He looked at Morag with pride. "And the Prophecy may still ring true."

"Prophecy? What kind?"

"That the true power of the MacDougal Clan would come through the firstborn of the lost scion, and restore them to their honor." He looked at Morag. "It was the firstborn _daughter_, though." 

"So my father gave me a girl's name because he wanted a daughter?"

"No. We all though that you were a girl when the Magi-sound was cast."

"Magi-sound?"

"Magical ultrasound. A mediwitch took care of your mother her whole pregnancy—she knew Geoff was a wizard soon after their dating. Generally Magi-sounds don't make mistakes, but this one must have. And the spell had been cast."

"What spell?" Antigone cut in. Morag could tell she was warming up to Uncle Alexander, she was not quite so shy.

"The Charm of Prebirth Naming, which bonds a child to the name the parents have selected. Geoff picked it—it's your great grandmother's name. Opaline, Geoff, and I cast it on you, and to rename you would have cursed you more than having a girl's name has pained you. Opaline probably knew you were born a girl since she had contact with Mavericka—you did see her often growing up, yes?"

"Yes, but I didn't know she was a witch until I got my letter." 

"Opaline was always low key about her power. Yes, then she knew." Alex reached into his robes and pulled out a wristwatch. "Alas, I'll have to cut this short. It's almost two, and I need to head back home." He rose to his feet. 

Morag startled, jumping to his feet. _No! He hasn't told me enough about my father or my family! And moreover, why was he disowned? There are too many questions I need answered!_ "But I have more to ask you. Can't you stay longer?"

Alex shook his head sadly, heading towards the door. "I don't live that near, and it will take the better part of a day to get home. I wish I could stay and talk more, Morag."

"Can't you even stop by Aunt Opaline's and see her?"

"I haven't spoken to her since Geoff's death." He looked as if he'd been cursed. "I don't even know where she lives."

Morag ripped a piece of parchment off and scribbled his aunt's address on it. "Here. Go see her. Tell her I sent you." 

Alex looked at the parchment and smiled. "I just might. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, Morag." Then, to Morag's surprise, he embraced him in a tight hug, enveloping him. "You are a very smart wizard, Morag, MacDougal. And you do my brother proud in ways I can clearly see." 

Morag felt his throat lock up at the thought of his father. "Thank you, Uncle Alexander." 

Alexander released him. "I will see you again, Morag. You may count on it." He grinned as he opened the door out to the snow. "And when I write you, I'll be sure to put 'Mr. MacDougal' on the letter. Take care, my nephew, and know that you honor your father in all your actions." With a sweep of his cloak, he went into the snow. 

Morag couldn't have felt any warmer if he'd downed another three tankards of butterbeer. 

Chapter 10--coming soon! 

Back to Tales From the Quill


	10. Return to Term

Author's note: This chapter may offend Christians. I'm trying to be as inoffensive as possible, but you can't please everyone. And this is a crucial part of my story, especially when it comes to Antigone, so it's gotta stay. 

Thanks to Haggridd and Madhuri for Beta reading.

*~*~*

Chapter 10:  
Return To Term

Carolina Kipley sighed as she worked at her Herbology homework. Looking back from mid-March, the Winter Break seemed far in the past. When she and Padma Patil had returned to Hogwarts just before the start of term, they'd all had a warm reunion and told about their holidays. Carolina had spent it at her father's, working contentedly on her homework and owling Antigone Moon every once in awhile. Padma had spent her holiday visiting relatives in India with her family, and had come back with lots of interesting books and facts about Indian wizarding life. Antigone had showed them both the Luni Pendant, which Padma immediately recognized. Morag MacDougal had told them about sneaking out to Hogsmeade, and added that Antigone had gotten them out of trouble-- which greatly surprised Carolina-- though he'd said nothing about why he had done so.

Since then, things had fallen into a rather dull pattern of classes, homework, and points earned or taken away. There'd been a Quidditch match near then end of February—Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor. A buzz had gone around at the news that Snape had decided to referee the game, but Carolina and Antigone had barely gotten settled into their seats when Harry Potter caught the Snitch and ended the game five minutes after it had started. Padma and Morag didn't even make it out to the stands because Padma had been sending off an owl right before the game and had planned to make a late entrance.

The only interesting gossip to come out of it was about the fight in the stands between Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, which had resulted in detentions for both. There had also been the delightfully close game between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Slytherin, despite rampant cheating, had lost by ten because Lawrence made a goal seconds before the Slytherin Seeker caught the Snitch. That's when Carolina learned a team could catch the Snitch and still lose if they didn't focus on making goals as well. Afterwards, Lawrence had been cheered by all the Ravenclaws in a raucous party that had kept the Ravenclaws up well into the night. 

Potions was still a bother, with Snape taking points left and right—especially from Antigone, who was still intimidated by him. But Carolina had been learning well—though unfair he knew his subject, Potions, thoroughly. For the most part Antigone made up those lost points in Charms, and what she didn't do in Charms, Carolina did in Transfiguration. She adored Transfiguration—and McGonagall was quite proud of Carolina's progress. 

It was evening. Antigone, having finished her homework, had her nose buried in what was starting to become her trademark book, _As The Gods Make It_,when she started shaking. Blinking, Carolina turned to Antigone. "What is it, Tig?" she asked, as she set down her quill.

Antigone was trembling, the book shaking visibly in her hands. She gulped, then looked at Carolina with wide eyes. She looked like she'd just had an illusion shattered. "Carolina, are you almost done with your homework?"

"I am done. I'm adding extra information about dittany for more points. Why?" 

"Because I want you to go to the library with me. Do you mind?

"Not at all, but why?" 

"Because I've got to look something up. Something very important. And I need you there for support."

Carolina bit her bottom lip—she'd never seen Antigone so tense. "I'll go then." She swept her books into her bag and stood up. The pair quickly made their way to the library, and Antigone made a beeline for the shelves and was gone for a few minutes, during which time Carolina added the extra half-inch of homework onto her parchment. She came back with five or six books which she set on the table. Her eyes were still wide, and she still looked very confused. Carolina got a good look at the title of the one on the top of the stack, and blinked: _Yeshua Bar-Joseph: The Life and Times of The Middle East's Most Famous Wizard_. "Antigone, who's Yeshua Bar-Joseph?"

Antigone looked at her hands, then opened her copy of _As The Gods Make It_. She rapidly flipped through the pages, and stopped at the picture of a tan-skinned, gently smiling man of Middle-Eastern heritage.

He stared up at them and waved as he calmly poured water from one old earthenware pitcher into another. Carolina could see that he was obviously a master of Transfiguration—as the water was pouring down, he waved his old-fashioned wand and adeptly turned it into wine.

"That's Yeshua." Antigone's voice held a tone that Carolina had never heard before—of fear and of secret knowledge.

"He looks like a master transfigurist." 

"He was. One of the best of his time, in fact. Look at what the book says about him." 

Carolina skimmed the page. "Hmm '... born sometime around 4 B.C.E., the oldest child of Muggle parents and the only wizarding one ... one of the few survivors of the "Massacre of Mages" shortly after the time of is birth ... discovered in his hometown of Bethlehem to be a wizard by a traveling mage ... trained at the prestigious Mount Sinai Academy of Magic; graduated at the top of his class ... explored the Mediterranean area, then returned to his family at the age of thirty ... Master of transfiguration ... best of his time ... world-renowned philosopher ... died at the age of thirty-three as one of the victims of intra-Muggle politics and the general unrest in the Muggle community at the time...'."

She looked up at Antigone. "He sounds familiar."

Antigone sat down across from Carolina. "You'd probably heard about him before you came to Hogwarts, if you ever had gone to church."

"When I was a little girl, my grandmother took me to church on Easter, but I never paid attention. Papa's a freethinker and not one for religion, and only allowed me to go to church with my gramma because she asked. I don't remember much from it, and when I turned four I said I didn't want to go anymore and he let me stay home. I haven't been to one since." 

Antigone looked at Carolina in a mixture of shock and confusion. "So you've never heard about the story of Christ?" 

Carolina tensed reflexively. "I hope you didn't bring me up here to try and convert me, Antigone Moon. I had enough of that last year when a friend of mine found out that that Papa and I were agnostics."

Carolina barely heard Antigone's reply. "After reading this, so am I."

"What?"

Antigone looked up at Carolina. The look in her eyes was that of a child who'd lost her innocent outlook on life. "Yeshua Bar-Joseph is his Hebrew name. In Greek he's called 'Jesus the Anointed'—_Jesus Christos_—and he was a wizard!"

*~*~*

"MORAG ARNOLD MACDOUGAL!"

Morag spun around as he sat in the Great Hall, his most recent spoonful of porridge still in his mouth. His cousin Miriam was storming towards him, her green-grey eyes flashing angrily, shoving several Second-Years out of her path. He tried to swallow so he could ask what was wrong, but he didn't have the time. As soon as she got to the table, she slapped him as hard as she could, snapping his head sideways and causing him to spit porridge all over Joseph Rogers's robes.

Morag turned to look at her like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "What the bloody hell was that for, Miriam?!" he screamed. 

"You nosy, good-for-nothing little twit!" Miriam shrieked, causing every student to turn to look at her and Morag. "You arrogant, ignorant slime! If I could see straight I'd curse you seven ways from Saturday! You don't deserve to be in Hogwarts! You don't even deserve to be a wizard, you half-blood bastard!"

"That's a horrible thing to say, Miriam!" he snarled, rising to his feet. 

"I don't care! She's your aunt, Morag! She's the only aunt you've ever known, she taught you everything about coming here when your mother could tell you nothing, she lost the respect of the whole MacDougal clan because of your damned Muggle mother—and you go and do _this_ to her?"

"I don't even know what I did!" Morag's cheeks were flushed in anger, rivaling his cousin's. 

"You told Uncle Alex where she lived!"

"Uncle Alex? But he asked me! He wanted to see her!"

"You mean you've been talking to him? Are you blind? Are you stupid?!"

"He's the only person who will tell me anything about my father's family!"

"The last thing you need is to go nosing around in family records about the MacDougals! Mother had that pain all closed up, had gotten over that stigma, had finally fixed up her life—and then you go and do this to her!" 

"I didn't do anything!" 

Miriam grabbed Morag by the collar of his robes, nearly snatching him off his feet. "Mother's lucky she's not dead because of you!"

"Aunt Opaline had nothing to fear from him!"

"Morag, he's the reason _your father is dead!_" Miriam shoved Morag onto the table, scattering the plates across the table and into various Ravenclaw laps. Morag's mouth fell open, his elbow in Lisa Turpin's orange juice, as Miriam burst into hysterical tears. He watched silently as Miriam ran off, sobbing audibly. 

_Uncle Alex is the reason my father's dead? _Morag blinked, trying to preserve what remained of his dignity as he climbed off the table. His robes were covered in bits of breakfast. There was complete silence in the Hall as students stared at Morag. There was no saving face from this one. He would just have to deal with the consequences of this later. He was still flushing, but it was more out of anger than in embarrassment.

He heard snickering at the Slytherin table behind him from one blond headed First-Year. Angrily, he grabbed the rest of his porridge and poured the whole mess onto the top of Moira Ryans's head, covering her eyes and causing her to gasp in shock. She turned to look at him, porridge dripping from her hair.

"Fuck you, you arrogant Slytherin bitch," he hissed at Moira before she could speak. "If you're an example of pure blood I'm damned glad I'm a half-blood."

Draco Malfoy leapt to his feet as if to curse him but was restrained down by Alph Kamain. Then Morag stormed out of the Great Hall and right into Professor McGonagall. He didn't know why she was there, though he suspected she had been chasing down Miriam.

Professor McGonagall looked down at Morag through her glasses, her lips set in a firm line. "What was that little spectacle?" she said, her voice controlled. "Porridge is for eating, not for pouring into the hair of your fellow classmates. Explain yourself, Mr. MacDougal." 

Morag had to bite his tongue not to yell at Professor McGonagall and lose more points than he was already going to. "Moira was laughing at me, Professor McGonagall," he said, staring at the floor. 

"And your temper is so short that you poured the remains of your breakfast on her head?"

"I was already upset, ma'am."

"Why?"

"Because my cousin Miriam embarrassed me publicly in front of everyone. She slapped me and accused me of endangering her mother's life." It took every ounce of control not to let a tear fall. No matter how upset he was, he was not going to let a teacher see him cry. "She said that my uncle is the reason my father is dead."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a sympathetic look in Professor McGonagall's eyes. Her face didn't change. "Angry or not, your actions were an embarrassment to your house. Especially your language. Forty points from Ravenclaw for such appalling behavior, and a detention. Be glad it's not more."

Morag felt like he'd been slapped again. Forty points was going to be very hard to make up or explain to the other Ravenclaws. 

"Go and clean yourself, Master MacDougal, then report to my office."

"What about Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"You can report to Professor Flitwick and Professor Quirrell after class to find out what you've missed." 

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Morag quietly made his way up to Ravenclaw Corners. One tear slipped down his cheek and plopped silently on the stone floor. 

*~*~*

Padma didn't need her twin sister Parvati in order to hear what had happened in the Great Hall during breakfast that morning. Carolina and Mandy Brocklehurst told her themselves in clear detail. Even Parvati wasn't this accurate when it came to her information. 

She still couldn't believe it. Forty points gone in one swoop because of Morag's temper. Though she had to admit that Moira should have had more sense that to draw attention to herself when Morag was that upset, she'd hoped Morag would have had more sense than to react so fiercely. 

At the end of Charms—Antigone managed to get three points for doing so well at her Re-Coloring Charm—the First-Years silently filed out. She saw Morag standing meekly besides the door, and while Antigone and Carolina both went over to him and spoke in hushed tones, the rest of the First-Years shot him a collective dirty look as they headed up to Ravenclaw Corners. 

Padma also stepped out of the queue to say something to Morag when he waved them all off. "Head back up to Ravenclaw Corners, guys," he said softly. "I'll be there after I get the assignment from Professor Flitwick."

"Where were you?" Padma asked. 

"In Professor McGonagall's office. I'll tell you more about it later." He stepped into the classroom, and as the door closed they could hear Professor Flitwick's voice.

"Master MacDougal, Professor McGonagall informed me before class. I am very disappointed"

The trio slowly made their way up to Ravenclaw Corners. Morag didn't make an appearance until fifteen minutes later, and immediately commenced to silently sitting over in one of the overstuffed chairs and pulling his knees up to his chest. 

"Nice going, Morag," Lisa Turpin hissed audibly, "losing so many points all by yourself. For someone who constantly derides Gryffindors for not thinking you set a prime example this morning."

"I'm sorry," Morag said, his voice muffled. He didn't move from his chair the entire time before lunch, just stared silently at the wall. When the Ravenclaws got up to head down to lunch, Morag was still sitting in his chair. Padma looked at him sympathetically as she headed out. "You coming along, Morag?"

Morag looked up, a dazed look. "Er—yes." He slowly got to his feet and followed Padma to the Great Hall. All through lunch Morag was silent and afterwards, in class. He looked greatly upset. It wasn't until late after dinner that night that Padma, Antigone, and Carolina cornered him. 

"So what happened?" Padma asked first. The four of them were the only First-Years awake—Padma, Carolina, and Antigone had decided to wait until the other First-Years were in bed before talking to him. "I heard about breakfast this morning—I was late and just grabbed some toast, so I missed everything."

"I was there," said Antigone, looking at Morag with a pained expression. "What did Miriam mean, 'Alex is the reason your father's dead'?"

"Alex?" Carolina sat down in the chair across from Morag. "Who's Alex?"

Morag sighed heavily. "I'd guess I'd better tell you everything."

*~*~*

And, Antigone noted to herself, so he did. 

He told them about finding out from Madam Hooch that his father and most of the MacDougals had been in Slytherin, including his aunt; about reading about his father and the MacDougals in _Families of the Dark Era_ and finding out that he had an Uncle Alexander; about trying to ask his aunt, reaching a dead end and so turning to Alexander; about receiving a reply before the first Quidditch game of the year and writing back, but hearing nothing until Christmas Day; that the reason he and Antigone had gone to Hogsmeade was to meet his uncle; that he'd given his uncle information to contact his aunt; and that now, Miriam had told him that his uncle was the reason he was fatherless. The whole time his face was a blank expression, as if he was reading a report instead of letting all his secrets out. Antigone knew all of this, so she didn't react as strongly as Padma and Carolina, who both looked absolutely shocked. 

"Did he?" Padma whispered. 

"Did what?" Morag replied. 

"Did your uncle Alex kill your father?"

Morag gulped, clearly upset. "I don't know. It's the reason I was in McGonagall's office all morning. She was telling me what happened."

"What?" Antigone asked. This was the part of the story she didn't know yet. 

"The day my father died, he and Uncle Alexander were together. My family was in hiding. It wasn't because of You-Know-Who. He'd just fallen. It was about two weeks later, when backlash was just starting. My mother and father were hiding because they feared the wrath of the rest of the MacDougals." 

"And how does Professor McGonagall know?"

"Professor McGonagall knows this because she was my father's advisor. She'd told him, my aunt, and my uncle what to do so that the rest of the MacDougals wouldn't take their rage out on them. They had gotten out of the thick of things early, but the other MacDougals still had reason to want to lash out at my father. Uncle Alexander hadn't seen me—he'd never seen me, he'd been out of the country when I was born and when he came back we were in hiding. My father went to go see him at his place. That evening, Uncle Alexander came over and told my mother and Aunt Opaline that my father was dead. I don't remember, I was only a little under two years old. My mother had always told me that he'd died when I was very small, but she'd never told me how." 

Morag's voice quavered. "No one but Alexander knew how he'd died, and Alexander wasn't telling. Then my aunt and mother found out that Alexander had killed him, that they'd been the only two at the house when my father died and that they'd had to tell Professor McGonagall about this, since she'd been the one hiding my family and now she had to hide me, my mother and Aunt Opaline's family as well, because we all were in danger." He sighed, heavily. 

The other three sat there, silent. Antigone was trying to process all this. Alexander hadn't acted like a murderer. He'd been nice to both of them. If he'd been out to hurt Morag, he could have done it when they were in Hogsmeade, or told them to meet him somewhere else. _Right?_ Her brow furrowed in concentration. _I'm not in any position to know though _

Her train of thought was broken when Morag spoke again. "I should write to him and find out."

"Morag! You can't!" Carolina shrieked. "He could hurt you!"

"He didn't hurt me before."

"You had Antigone with you. One can hide one dead body a lot easier than two."

"He still could have killed her." Padma looked disgusted. 

Antigone felt faint. _I'm not that big. He could have killed me_ She felt the room swirl slightly. 

Carolina was standing now, shaking her finger at Morag. "Don't you dare contact him, Morag. Don't you dare."

"But I want to know the truth."

"Oh, do you really think he's going to say, Yes, I killed your father'? I don't think so. I mean it, Morag. You just ignore him from now on. I'm going to have to agree with Miriam—you nearly got your aunt hurt." Carolina huffed and headed into her dorm. 

Padma rose to her feet. "I can't tell you what to do, Morag. But don't do anything that would get you or anyone else hurt, okay?" She shook her head and headed to their dorm. 

Antigone rose to her feet. She was still thinking when Morag grabbed her arm gently. "Tig?" he said. 

"Yes?"

"I'm going to contact him again. I'm going to ask him."

"But"

"Yes, I know they all say he's guilty, even Professor McGonagall. But I just have to, Tig. Something inside me tells me that my uncle Alexander is innocent." 

Antigone nodded. "Me too."

"Tig?"

"Yes?" 

Morag looked up at her with his grey eyes. "I've told Carolina and Padma my secret. One of these days you'll have to tell them yours."

Antigone gulped. She was still shaken by the memory of seeing a revered figure from her household in a magical book earlier, and so the next day she'd spent hours poring over the books she'd checked out of the library after Carolina had left. They'd all said the same thing—things she had come to believe, things that had shaken all her father's beliefs to their very foundations. These beliefs weren't hers anymore. "I can't yet."

"Don't let someone else force you to."

Antigone nodded. "I won't."


	11. All Downhill From Here

Birds of a Feather  
Book One: First Flight  
by Nethilia

Author's note: Okay. After one college graduation and a cross country move, I'm ready to give you all the end of this. Happy fun!

Again, if you're offended…well, you just are.

Thanks to Haggridd for beta reading. Boy, you put up with so much from me. I'm so grateful.

Chapter 11  
All Downhill from Here

Morag was quite worried. His uncle Alexander hadnt spoken or written to him since hed sent the letter asking about what had really happened the night his father had died. He hoped he hadnt upset him too much, or opened an old wound by asking, but weeks had gone by without anything happening. Now there were only three weeks left till exams. Padma and Carolina had started reviewing hard about a week ago, because, like all Ravenclaws, they wanted to score as high as possible. Antigone was doing quite well in her classes, with the exception of Potions, but wasnt failing that Subject. Morag was reviewing as wellhe wasnt very good at Astronomy, but otherwise was expected high grades.

At least all of Ravenclaw wasnt ignoring him quite as badly since hed made up some of the lost points through doing well in classes (and Terry Boot himself had lost ten points for nearly setting the Potions classroom on fire back in April). After the Ravenclaw First-Years had stopped being overtly mean to him and just settled on being cold in passive ways, the major thing left on his mind was his uncle Alex.

He set his book down and sighed. Im not getting much studying done now.

Padma looked up from her Potions text, which she and Antigone were poring over. Pardon?

Im just reading and not retaining anything. I need to go clear my thoughts. Morag rose to his feet, then grabbed his spell book as an afterthought. Ill be back later, okay? Ill get some studying done outside.

Sure. Antigone gave Morag a concerned look. See you at dinner if you dont come back earlier.

Morag made his way out of Ravenclaw Corners, noting that Oliver and Anthony were still pointedly ignoring him. Shaking his head and sighingitd been almost a month since his screw-uphe made his way to the outer grounds. He saw a couple of the older students playing a pickup game of Quidditch, and sat watching them for a while.

He still hadnt heard from his uncle. He was tempted to send off another note. After all, what if the first one hadnt arrived? What if Uncle Alex was ignoring him? _No, _he decided, shaking his head. _That would be impatient of me. Uncle Alex will owl me when he owls me,_ he thought. _Ill probably get a letter at breakfast tomorrow, to plan out our next meeting. Ill worry about how to sneak out when it arrives._ He decided to practice his Charmsit would be useful to get some studying in before dinner, and while it was his best subject, it wouldnt hurt to make sure he had things down firmly.

The next morning at breakfast, he got the post by owl hed been expecting. However, his mood became sour as he read it to himself.

Dear Morag

I know youd like to see me once again before exams, especially after whats happened with Opaline and Miriam. However, I think it best that you stop worrying about me and focus on your exams at present. While they might not seem too hard right now, they may be difficult, and you should study hard. Worrying about sneaking out to see me will be a distraction. Also, I wouldnt be surprised if the teachers are keeping an eye on youyes, Im referring to the scene you made at breakfast that you told me about. The last thing your family needs is your being expelled from Hogwarts. Ill keep owling you, though. Keep me informed. I cant wait to see you again.

Your Uncle,

Alexander

Morag grumbled under his breath. _Theres nothing about my father in here! Is he deliberately avoiding the topic?_ Antigone gave him a look of concern, and after breakfast pulled him to the side as they were headed to their first class of the morning. That was from your uncle, right?

Yes, and hes telling me that he wont be seeing me again until the end of termthat I should focus on my exams. And he didnt even mention my father!

He does have a point, Morag. Antigone gave him a friendly hand squeeze. First of all, nothing about your father will be on the exam, and itd be better to find out in person. And you shouldnt be worried about seeing Alexander right now. Youll be able to see him after the term is over and were back home. Itll be a lot easier to get away from your mothers place than to sneak out of Hogwarts. We were lucky the first time and we still almost got caught. You shouldnt take that chance again. I dont think the professors are over that incident at breakfast yet. Theyve probably got their eye on you.

Youre lecturing me, Tig.

But am I right? Antigone gave him a compassionate, but firm look.

Morag sighed Yes, you are. After all, it wont do to disgrace the family name further by failing out.

Good. Will you study Astronomy with me tonight? I know youre struggling, and Im not the best but Im fairly good.

Sure, Tig. Morag smiled.

Padma had gotten up early to study before breakfast. Shed wanted to go to the library, but it wasnt open just yet. So shed decided to study in the Great Hall, along with Cho and Lisa Turpin. Cho was helping them go over their History of Magic notes and getting in some studying herself. An hour before breakfast, the Great hall was open, so it was okay to stake out seats early and study quietly. Being rowdy could get students removed and sent back outside to wait.

She had been diligently checking the House points that were displayed in large hourglasses on the wall of the Entrance, ever since Ravenclaw had made it into third place behind Slytherin. Chestnut-sized sapphires filled the Ravenclaw hourglass. They fell from the upper bulb into the lower one as students earned points, and were pulled and rose back up as points were lost. Near the top were each houses totals, which kept an accurate count of the points. On the day Morag had lost Ravenclaw forty pointsa loss that still stungthere had been considerable comment at the loss of points when everyone had come out of breakfast.

Padma glanced over the others as an afterthought. Hufflepuff, not known for standing out much, was on the low end, but holding their own. The Slytherin emeralds glinted, and as Padma watched, five more fell into the lower bulb. She wrinkled her noseSlytherins were always tweaking points unfairly and Snape was not any help. It was too early in the morning to be earning points. But it was twenty lower than it had been, and that was a comfort. Well, fifteen, what with the probably unfairly added five.

She glanced over at the Gryffindor hourglass. _Wait a minute_ she blinked. Then she gasped aloud. Lisa and Cho, who had been idly talking as theyd been walking, turned to face her.

What is it? Lisa asked. Another disgusting addition of Slytherin points again? Honestly Padma, you should be used to

Padma shook her head mutely, then pointed to the Gryffindor rubies. No. The Gryffindor numbers. Theyre down one hundred and fifty points!

One hundred and fifty! Padma, you cant be serious! Are you sure? Cho looked at the glass, and her jaw dropped as she saw the total. By Merlin! Youre right! They were in first and now theyre dead last!

But...butbut Lisa stammered a moment before finally continuing her though. Who could lose one hundred points overnight? How could one person mess up so badly?

Not one. Three. Three very stupid First-Years, thats who. The voice that spoke was bitter. The three of them turned to face one of the Gryffindor prefectsthough, Padma noted, not the Weasley one. There was always a prefect assigned to the Great Hall for the early morning students. Caught out of bed, two in the Astronomy tower and one in the halls, just wandering around for no good reason. Couldnt even explain themselves to Professor McGonagall. And do you know who one of those was? He didnt give the three time to answer. The famous Harry Potter, thats who. I hope hes proud of himself. Hes cost us the house cup. He huffed angrily and turned to glare at the hour glass, as if to wish the points back in.

Cho, Padma, and Lisa didnt wait to discuss the circumstances with the obviously angry prefect. They scooted into the Great Hall and grabbed a seat at the end of the Ravenclaw table. About a half hour of solid studying distracted Padma, until a group of Hufflepuffs made their way in.

Dyou see the hourglasses? one of them whispered to the others.

One hundred and fifty! the other said. And I was so hoping they would finally beat Slytherin too!

Padma sighed and put her book away. There wouldnt be any more studying during breakfast with this going on.

All the buzz at breakfast was about the massive loss of Gryffindor points, and how Harry Potterthe _famous_ Harry Potterhad lost them so many points. The Slytherins grinned boastfully as they walked in, as this effectively put them solidly in first. Morag was the first of their group to plop down at the table, his eyes wide with shock. He seemed to be smiling though, which made Padma raise an eyebrow.

The hourglassesdid you three notice?

Padma nodded, as Joseph slid in beside her. Its kind of hard not to. Its a staggering loss.

Staggering? Its a crushing blow! Why, I shouldnt hear another thing about the amount I lost! I was only by myself and weve made up a good part of it!

Joseph nodded. Yah, Id have to agree with Morag. What they did pales in comparison. _Oh, so the other first-years are paying attention to him. No wonder Morags not focusing as much on their talking to him again._

And even more shocking, do you know who caused it? Morag would have continued relating the story, but a hush spread over the hall and silenced him. Padma leaned over to see Harry Potter standing near the door, looking dejected. Besides him was the youngest Weasley, Ron, their bushy-haired friend Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, who had red rimmed eyes as if hed been crying all night. The silence continued as the four walked to their table, all eyes on them. You could hear their footfalls echoing on the stone floor.

The silence was broken only when Draco Malfoy called out, Thanks, Potter! Youve given us the lead! The rest of the Slytherins there whistled and clapped, but no other house even moved. The four quietly made their way to the Gryffindor table, sitting down at the far end. A couple of the other first-years were therePadma could make out Parvati, who had tight lips and looked to be glaring at Harry. Shed related the whole story to Lavender so loudly and angrily as shed sat at the table that Padma didnt even have to get up and walk over to hear her. Then, pointedly, they all got up and moved as far away as possible. The other Gryffindors scooted over to give them room, isolating the four completely. Neville suppressed a sob. Then the chatter started again, filling the Great Hall.

Morag gave a low whistle. The cold shoulder from the entire House.

It should be from every House! They deserve it! Lawrence snapped. Hed been sitting there a while. The one chance anyone had to overtake Slytherin in six years, and they go and blow it! I hope theyre happy with themselves! Lawrence slammed his fist on the table, rattling the goblets that held their pumpkin juice. Lisa had to wipe some drops that had landed near her book.

Id feel sorry for them, but honestlyone hundred and fifty? Morag shrugged, picking up his goblet. They should be shunned. Thats bad form, even for Gryffindors.

I hate to say it, but I agree. Padma gave one more look towards the four First-Years sitting alone before starting in on her breakfast.

Antigone ignored the soft hoots as she stood in the Owlery and read over her note to her mother. In it, she had said everything she wanted it to say, including what shed found out in months of extensive research: that what shed been told about magic by her father, including how sinful it was, had been canceled by this startling fact about Jesus. _Yeshua,_ she corrected herself, the letter gripped tightly in her hands. Shed made it seem like a casual fact she was learning, rather than be blatant about it, and Carolina had helped her write parts of it so it didnt sound too important. She hadnt told Carolina why it needed to sound so casual, however. _Perhaps Mummy will understand too._ She looked up to see if she could spot Nike. One she did, she whistled like Carolina had shown her, and Nike fluttered down. Carolina had trained her pet to take orders from Antigone as well as from her. Antigone tossed Nike an owl treat and watched the owl eat it, while waiting patiently for Antigone to tie the letter onto Nikes left leg. Antigone watched Nike fly off, then made her way out. _Hope I get a quick reply,_ she thought.

Antigone received her reply only a day later. One of the school owls dropped a neatly sealed letter on her plate just before shed started buttering a biscuit. Nike had been carrying a package for Carolina and a letter, so her friend had gotten something from her father. Antigone noticed absently that the letter had been resealed in parchment, which had probably been done at the central Owl Post Office. She opened it and pulled out the neatly written letter. Not even a sentence into reading though, she choked back a gasp. She continued to read, her eyes welling up.

Antigone:

How dare you! How could you say such slanderous things about your Lord? The idea of Gods only son being a wizard is nothing but blasphemous thinking. He is Son of God, not some turner of magic tricks. His glory came from the Creator. And the idea that you read this from a book at that schooland that some book shook your faithmakes me wonder if I did the right thing sending you there.

I sent you to Hogwarts because you are a bright young girl and this is the best school for you to cultivate your magic powers. Even against your fathers wishes, I sent you there, with the hopes you would use this as a chance to glorify the Lord with your skills. But there is no excuse for this behavior, young lady. You are there to learn magic, not to defy God, and if you send me anything like this again I will think twice about sending you back.

Id advise you to take a good hard look at why youre going to that school, Antigone, if lies from some slanderous book can shake your faith in the Lord.

The letter was signed in tight script. Antigones hands shook as she refolded the letter and slid it back in its parchment. Carolina noticed that she was upset.

Whats wrong, Antigone? she said, setting her fork down.

Antigone fought tears. You know that letter I wrote Mummy and sent off last week?

The one I helped you with? What about it?

Mummy wrote me back.

So whatd she tell you?

SheIll just tell you about later, okay? Antigone shuffled through her backpack to make sure shed gotten all her books and supplies. IIve got to go get my Transfiguration book before class. I left it back in the dormitory.

Sure, Tig. But Carolina laid a hand on Antigones shoulder. You know you can tell me anything, right?

Mmhmm. Antigone shuffled off, head down, to go get her book. She was silently grateful that shed left it, as walking back gave her time to gather her thoughts. _Mummy cant take me out of Hogwarts! She just cant! But, if shes this upset, she just might. Does she even have the authority? Can she really keep me from returning? _

The threat of not returning to Hogwarts ruined the rest of the day for Antigone. She half-heartedly paid attention in both Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. McGonagall looked very upset at her and nearly took points from Ravenclaw for it, but Quirrell seemed preoccupied with something else altogether and didnt notice. Since there were no longer flying lessons, shed gone to hide out in the Library. While it wasnt isolatedmany students were there reviewing hard for examsno one disturbed her. The text swam in front of her eyes, though, obscured by one thought.

_ She cant take me from Hogwarts._

It was only two weeks or so before exams were to start that Carolina saw her best friend take a turn for the worst.

Detention notices were been deliveredone each to Harry Potter and the other two First-Years that had lost points, she noticedas well as regular mail. Antigones letter was just like the last one shed gotten, Carolina noticed to herself. Her father had sent her a care package of sweets (a mixture of magical and Muggle sweets) along with a note to do well on her exams. She was pulling out one of the Licorice Wands to nibble on the way to class when she heard a choked cry from Antigone.

Antigone was scanning the letter in her hands, trembling. As she read on, her eyes took on a dead, hurt look, that worsened as she kept reading. By the time she reached the end of the letter, she looked like shed gotten the worst news of her life. Without another word, she ran out of the Great Hall, nearly crashing into Saraminta Fawcett.

Whats with her? Andrew asked, watching her.

Ill go see, Carolina said. She probably went to the dorm.

But Antigone wasnt in the dorm, and she didnt show up to any of her classes that day. Professor Sprout clicked her tongue and Professor Flitwick looked upset, but Binns didnt even notice. When Carolina returned to the dormitory to give Antigone a copy of her notes, she heard soft sobbing coming from her bed. _She must have returned. But why is she crying?_ The curtains were drawn tightly, and Shadow was under the bed, quiet for once.

Tig? Are you okay? she asked.

Go away, Antigones tearful voice came through the curtains, with a hint of sharpness.

Carolina winced. Antigone had never been sharp with her. I made a copy of my notes to give to you. Its mostly review, but I know youd like them. And Ive got your homework assignments. When youre feeling better, come out and Ill go over class with you. Ill leave the notes on the bed. She reached to part the curtains, but Antigones voice cut her off.

Leave me alone! she wailed. Go away and leave me alone!

Carolina didnt need to be told twice. She left the notes on Antigones trunk and headed out. But Antigones reaction plagued her, and she got little sleep that night.

The next day Antigone made it to class, her eyes puffy from crying. She walked as if in a fog, barely even trying in Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts. Potions was the worst, as Antigone completely screwed up the initial steps and sent splatters of Stinksap across the room when it exploded all over her and Carolina. Luckily it wasnt anything toxic, and Carolina was only plagued by being completely soaked and reeking of manure.

_Scourgify!_ Snape hissed, and the glop cleaned itself up from everything, including Carolina. Then he turned his rage onto Antigone. Miss Moon, have you forgotten everything youve been taught? Is there anything in that empty little head of yours? Have you paid no attention to your work all year? Or did you think that since its near exams, you dont have to perform as well anymore?

Antigone didnt answer, staring at the table. Well? he snarled, even angrier, bending over to stare into her eyes. Answer me! Antigone responded by lowering her head further, still silent. Snape snorted. Well, maybe your classmates will thank you later for a loss of twenty-five points from Ravenclaw, both for your abysmal screw-up and refusing to answer me.

There was still nothing from Antigone. Carolina couldnt even see tears in her eyes. It was like Snape was yelling at a dummy. The Potion Masters glare became fiercer as he straightened up.

Since you wont speak to me, you can go talk to Professor Flitwick and tell him why you seem to have lost your tongue along with your Potions skills, poor as they had been. The rest of you return to work. Miss Kipley, you can redo your potion alone. He returned to his desk and wrote on a piece of parchment, sealed it up, and sent Antigone off with it.

Carolina measured out the Stinksap out again, watching Antigone shuffle off towards the door. _Oh, Tig. Whats wrong with you?_

Morag wanted to shake Antigone hard by the end of the week. Whatever shed gotten in that note a few days ago had turned her into a shade of what shed been. Shed lost points left and right, widening the gap between Ravenclaw and Slytherin and nearly dropping them below Hufflepuff. Even Flitwick had to take points reluctantly when Antigone hadnt participated in the review session, choosing to sit there quietly with her wand on the desk in front of her. It was going to take a spectacular performance from Ravenclaw during the last match against Gryffindor to make up this travesty.

After classes were over that Friday, Morag went up to Flitwick. Professor Flitwick, may I have a word with you? he asked.

Yes, Mister MacDougal? Flitwick set his wand down. Is it about the exams? I know you dont need any tutoring, youre one of my best students, but if youd like some review

I wish it was. Its about Tig. Antigone, I mean.

Yes, Miss Moon. She seems quite distracted nowadays. Flitwick shook his head. And she was doing so well.

Professor Snape send her here to speak to you the other day, after she messed up.

Yes. She received a detention for her, well, lack of performance in class. Shell be spending the evening helping Professor Kettleburn clean out the stables. Morag absentmindedly remembered that Lawrence had mentioned him as the Care of Magical Creatures professor and added on that he was missing his left leg and a couple of fingers from his right hand.

Well, did she say anything to you? Shes been walking around like shes gotten horrible news, and she wont talk to anyone.

Im sorry to say no. She barely answered me when I told her about her detention that day, and even then she was strangely quiet. I know shes a quiet girl, Morag. Perhaps her friends can get more out of her than any of the staff.

Ill try. Thank you, professor. Morag made his way to the outdoorshe was going to play a quick three-on-three soccer game with Joseph and some other students. It was afterwards, on his way to dinner when he realized what it might be about.

_ Her father! Her father might have something to do with this! _ Morags throat locked in fury. Compared to not being able to see his uncle right now, this was much worse. At least his uncle had nothing against him being at Hogwarts, and it was only so hed focus on his exams. _Honestly, how can someone hate magic, especially because of something so moronic? Dammit Tig. I wont rat you out. But if its about your father you had better tell before things become even worse. _

Has anyone seen my copy of _ Stuart Little_? Carolina asked in Ravenclaw Corners Sunday night. Its a Muggle book and I brought it out the other day for some casual reading. Its my only copy too.

Paperback or hardback? Penelope asked. She had her head buried in one of her textbooks.

PaperbackIve yet to get a hardback copy.

Look under the chairs. I saw one of the Seventh-Years cats batting a book around.

Thanks. Carolina got on her hands and knees and started feeling under the chairs. There was mostly dust, and once Carolina poked one of the cats and almost got scratched, but she felt nothing book shaped until she reached one of the chairs on the far end of the room. It was hardback, however, and when she pulled it out she was shocked to see the title: _As the Gods Make It_. She didnt even have to open it up to know the book belonged to Antigone.

Thats the last straw! she screeched, causing Padma and Morag to turn to face her, as well as a good number of students.

What? Padma said, worried. Carolina didnt answer, only marching over to where Antigone was sitting, her chair turned towards the wall. Antigone looked up at her, eyes, wide, as Carolina started screaming.

Antigone Moon, you explain this right now! she hollered, thrusting the book at her. Shadow leapt out of his mistresss lap and hissed at Carolina but she wasnt letting a cat put her off.

Exexplain what? Antigone said, shrinking into the chair.

You explain right now why this book was under a chair here in Ravenclaw Corners! Carolina shook the book angrily. Better yet, you explain the past week! Youve been moping around ever since you got that stupid note, and you havent told anyone about it or even who its from and youve lost points left and right for RavenclawIm surprised no ones shunned you like they did Morag! Youve dropped us behind Hufflepuff because of howve you been acting! Youve been crying and sulking around, you havent studied anythingthe exams start next Mondayand youre not even trying, Tig! You dont even care! Its like you want to fail out of Hogwarts! Carolina didnt realize she was crying until a tear dripped onto her hand. Its like you dont even want to be a witch anymore--

It doesnt matter if I want to be a witch anymore! Antigone screamed. Now everyone in Ravenclaw Corners turned to look at the two, and Mandy gaspedAntigone had never raised her voice so loudly at anyone. What does it matter what I want if Ill never be returning to Hogwarts anyways! Then Antigone did the last thing anyone expected of hershe slumped to the floor in hysterical tears.

Padma was at Antigones side in a minute, guiding her to her feet and quickly shuffling her outside to sit in the hallway. The last thing she wanted was to make things even worse for Antigone. Carolina looked frozen, until Morag prodded her and led her out behind them. Cho and Lawrence had also tossed their books down and followed them into the hall. Once they were outside Ravenclaw Corners, Padma helped her sit down on the stone steps that were nearby.

Now, whats this about not returning to Hogwarts? she asked softly.

Antigone tried to speak, but she was crying so hard nothing would come out. Mummymy mothershesDaddy

What? What about your father?

Did he hit her again? Morag hollered, causing the others to look at him.

Again? Cho whispered. You mean your fathers abusive, Antigone?

When did you find this out, Morag? Padma said, feeling a lump in her throat.

Antigone told me back in December, that day she ran out crying. I promised not to tell anyone, but Tig, this has gotten bigger than that and you know it. Antigone hiccupped, but otherwise didnt speak. Thats why she had to go home early in the school year, because her father had found her mother and practically beaten her to death. Shed left him at the start of the year, over Antigone coming here, but it wasnt enough.

Thats horrible! Lawrence said. Why, its disgusting!

Is that what youve been keeping from us all year? Oh, Tig, you could have told me, Carolina said, and Padma noted that there was a tone of pity in her voice. Any anger shed held towards Antigone had been washed away by finding this out. I wouldnt have hated you for that. Its not your fault.

Yes, yes it is! Antigone sobbed. Daddy started hitting Mummy when I started going here! She sobbed again, burying her face in her hands. He hates magic, he hates the idea of me being a witch, and now I wont be coming back to Hogwarts because Im an evil sinful little girl and theyre right, I should have never started here at Hogwarts! Tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

What? Cho blinked. Why not?

Theres a letterin my trunk, right on top. Padma, could you get it? I dont want to go back in just yet. 

Padma made her way back into their dorm. As Antigone had told her, the letter was right on top. Returning to the others, as an afterthought, she scooped up Shadow and brought him too. Should I read it for you? she said, setting Shadow in her lap.

Antigone nodded morosely. Padma opened it and was shocked from the first sentence.

 Antigone, Ive gone back to your father. I should never have defied him and should never have sent you to that school. As soon as you return, well be pulling you out and sending you to the Truth in the Covenant School for Girls back in the States. I dont like this, but its the only way to keep the family together. Bring all your things with you. You father will dispose of them immediately so you wont have any excuse to return. Mummy. Antigone, does this mean what I think it means?

Antigone nodded. Im not coming back to Hogwarts.

Chapter 12

Back to Tales From the Quill


	12. Secrets and Solutions

Birds of a Feather  
Book One: First Flight  
by Nethilia

Authors note: Two chapters in a night! Well, in twenty four hours. Does this make up for my bad performance over the past year or so? Yes? Yes? I hope so.

Hope youre not offended at my portrayal of Christianity. If you are, well I took a couple digs at my own pantheons as well, so I wasnt unfair.

Thanks to Haggridd for beta reading.

I call it Philosophers Stone, as there really are stories about it, and I do like the British term better.

Chapter Twelve  
Secrets and Solutions

Morag wanted to punch something: the walls, a chairanything. If a Slytherin had walked by right now Morag would have made him regret even stepping into the hallway. The idea of Tigs having to be removed from Hogwarts because of her father made Morag wish he knew a good hex or twoanything to take his rage out on that horrible man. He hoped hed never see the person who had hurt his friend like this.

Tell us everything, Cho said. Start from the very beginning. Start from getting your letterthe Hogwarts one.

Antigone looked up at Morag, eyes wet with tears. She seemed to have calmed down. Will you help me out, since Ive told you already?

Morag sat down besides her. Of course, Tig. _Anything to help a friend._

My fatherDaddyhes Christian. Not that theres anything wrong with being Christian, of course. Morag nodded in agreementhed explained to Antigone months back that his mother was Christian though shed never had a problem with her father not believing as well. Well, hes what is known as a fundamentalist, one who is really strict on the Bible, who follows every word literally. He wasnt born here in Englandhes originally American. My mother met him over in the States. He married her and they moved here right after I was born, since Mummy is English and she wanted her children growing up here. Well, everything was fine, if a bit strictat home Im not allowed to wear pants or play music or go to dances or anything. I was originally supposed to go to boarding school in the states.

That Truth and the Covenant thing? Carolina cut in.

Antigone nodded. Its an all-girls boarding school. One of my aunts is a professor thereonly they call them teachers, not professors. The day I got my letter, Daddy saw the words Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and nearly had a fit. He accused me of bringing Satan into the house and spanked me good.

Spanked you! Padma gasped. Ive never been spanked!

 Spare the rod and spoil the child. Either way, he refused to send me at all, burning the letter up. Well, I guess Hogwarts keeps sending them when you dont get them, because the next day I got another one. Mummy got it first though and read the whole thing to me, then sent off the form for us to meet an official and everything. When we got the reply back with the date for us to go shopping, Daddy found it, and when hed heard that my mother had defied him they got in a fight. It ended when he gave her a good solid whack and then marched out of the houseI dont know where he went, Mummy and I called a cab and went to my aunts for the night. We had to leave my brothers and sisters there. My auntMummys sisterlives in a small house just outside of London, shes never been married.

Is that where you father found your mother? Carolina asked.

He knew exactly where to look, and while my aunt was out at work he showed up and gave Mummy a beating. Put her in the hospital. EsmereldaIve mentioned her beforefound out and came to get me. She helped Mummy get a flat in London all to herself, with room for me once I got back. But Mummy had a hard time finding a jobshes never had any marketable skills, you see, as shes been a housewife since she got out of school and hadnt had any outside training. And while Ive been here studying, shes been struggling out there.

So whyd she go back to your father? Morags voice was controlled. It wasnt because you stayed here for Christmas, was it?

No, no. It was something I did, but not that. That happened because of _As the Gods Make It._

That book you got as a prize for the wall, Lawrence mumbled, hand on his chin. Ive had to get that book a few times for Muggle Studies, dead useful for studying Muggle religious beliefsoh. His voice died away as he caught on. Antigone tensed, and Morag took her hand and squeezed it.

Ive read the school copy of it, he continued, letting Antigone pause. Antigones interest got me reading it. Its about Muggle religions and how some of their religious beliefs have been influenced by magic, witches, and wizards theyve seen. For example, theres the story of Baba Yaga, who was one of the earliest dark witches, who used to slaughter Muggles that found her if they asked her for anything. You had to jump through hoops to keep her from slaughtering you; and the book also mentions Isis and Osiris, who started one of the oldest magical schools known: the Memphis Institute for Mages. Isis herself was one of the first Healers, who came up with some of the first spells for magical maladies. Its a fascinating book as books go.

Thats the book in which Antigone showed me Yeshua Bar-Joseph, isnt it, the one she called Jesus? Carolina looked at Antigone.

Yes. He was a master transfigurer, and later in life tried to still some unrest in the Muggle Middle East.

It ended poorly, though, Morag continued. He was executed in the fashion of the time: crucifixion. The Wizard Council there tried to help himeven sent in one of their own, Pontus Pilate, to try and protect himbut it wasnt of any use. The Muggles wanted him dead, and so did a wizard or two for getting involved in Muggle politics. Well, soon after he died one of his fellow mages came and got the body since they were only using the grave temporarily. Sort of a layover, you know? His parents wanted him entombed near his birthplace, and all. Well, things got really mixed up after that, and stories were all switched around by some of his Muggle followers, and then this one guySaul, or somethingstarted claiming hed gotten some message that Yeshua had risen from the dead and was the son of God. There was a call by wizards to have Memory Charms placed on his muggle followers to try and prevent rebellion, but werent as perfected as they are now so some of the Muggles retained scant memories even after they had been modified. Only they were all muddled up and the stories were off. Soon the whole mess had spread further than anyone could have expected it to, and a cult started up around him and then, the next thing you know

Morag shrugged. The next thing you know, Christianitythats what they were calling ithad spread. Lots of witches and wizards thought it loads of amusement, just let it go on. After all, it wasnt often some wizard or witch got a big Muggle following, and they always petered out after a while. The last really huge one in that area had been the Cult of Isis so the wizards thought it was just a small thing. But it got bigger than anyone had thought it would and centuries down the line a good portion of the followers were trying to flush out witches and wizards alike and said we were working for some guy named Satan. That whole mess is a chunk of why weve got the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy. _I may not pay lots of attention in History of Magic, but I do know a good lot of it._

And this is what your father believes? Cho asked.

Its what my whole family believes. So when I told Mummy about what Id read in my book, it was the end of it for her. Sending me to school to learn magic was one thing, but starting to question the teachings of the Bible is just too much for her to deal with from me. She went back to my father and he took her back. He said he was only going to stay with her on one condition, though, and that was me being pulled out of Hogwarts soon as possible. Hes decided the best way to keep me from doing anything even more damning is to pull me right out. As soon as I get home, all my things are going to be destroyedburned, most likely. Daddys fond of burning things. She sniffled. Ill give Shadow to one of youDaddy doesnt like cats eitherbut the rest of it, all of it, is going to be gone and there wont be a thing I can do about it. The day I step off the Hogwarts Express is the day its all over.

Morags teeth clenched involuntarily. Like hell it is, Tig. Im not letting some great big load of Muggle like your father take you out of Hogwarts. Doesnt he know that your magic will just become more and more uncontrolled without training?

He doesnt care. And Mummys sister cant take me inshe cant afford to, and she wont risk my father coming by again, she said it to Mummy. Antigone started crying again, as hard as before. He wont have a witch for a daughter. 

I dont care what hell have and what he wont have, were going to do something about this right now! He stood up. Ill go get Professor Flitwick, and well do everything we can to keep you here, Tig. Youre coming back next year. Youre too bright not to.

Later that evening Professor Flitwick escorted Padma, Carolina, Morag, and Antigone to Professor McGonagalls officeshe was the Deputy Headmistress. Flitwick at first had only wanted to bring Antigone, but when he saw her crying hed let the other four come along for support. Cho and Lawrence had stayed behind.

Professor McGonagall, in her tartan bathrobe, looked quite upset at having been disturbed right before bedtime. Her hair was still pulled back into a bun, and she hadnt pulled on her hair net. Flitwick stood by the door as she looked at the four First-years seated in front of herthere was normally only one chair but shed conjured up the other three. So, Professor Flitwick said that something important has come up with a Ravenclaw student. Id like to hear about it. Her voice was firm, but not harsh.

Padma looked at the other three. Morag looked as though he was going to yell if he opened his mouth, and that wouldnt have sat well with Professor McGonagall at all. Antigone was still crying, only quietly, and Carolina was shuffling around as if they were in trouble. _Its up to me, then._ May I speak, professor?

If youre the only one who can.

Well, see its about Antigone. Im not sure if you know how things have been for herit was very hard for her to get to Hogwarts.

I remember getting notice that her first letter had been destroyed, so I just sent another one. It happens once in a whilecarelessness, the family dog getting the mail firstthings like that, so another one is sent. The worst case was with Mister Potter. I finally got tired of addressing them myself and had Professor Dumbledore just send out charmed duplicates. And finally, when that wasnt enough, we sent Hagrid to retrieve him from one of the worst lot of Mugglesbut thats not the point. Mostly just one duplicate has to be sent, sometimes two.

Well, Antigones father isnt going to let her return to Hogwarts next year. Hes sending her to a school in the states--

Miss Patil, its within parents right to send their child to another magical academy if they so desire. Hogwarts is the only one in Britain, but there are others, some even in Europe.

Thats the thing, though. Its not going to be a magical school, professor.

Padma was sure Professor McGonagall had blinked at that. What do you mean by that? She needs magical training, same as any witch. Why would they send her to another school?

Her parents are fundifundowhats that word again, Morag?

Fundamentalist. Morag spat the word out.

Thats it. Fundamentalist Christians. Well, its mostly her fathers idea. He seems to think that magic is evil, and her mother has gone back to him, you see. Morag and Antigone explained the whole thing to me. It involves some wizard in the history books that many Muggles seem to fancy tons. Either way, the day Antigone gets back from Hogwarts hes going to destroy all her things and send her to a religious boarding school in the states.

I see. McGonagall adjusted her glasses and looked at Antigone. Is this true, Miss Moon?

Antigone nodded, still crying. Professor McGonagall fished a neat white handkerchief out of her drawer and handed to Antigone, who wiped her eyes with it. Im not sure exactly what we can do. It might very well be that you have to go back to your parents

At this Antigone cried harder, and Morag and Carolina leapt to their feet. Padma gasped in shock. Professor McGonagall, you cant send her back! Morag was the first to yell, fists clenched. Hell break up all her stuffburn her wand up, all her books, all of it!

Mister MacDougal

But her fathers horrible! Carolina cried. If she goes back, he wont let her train or anythinghe thinks its sataniches the worst kind of Muggle!

Miss Kipley, will you please

Her father hits her and her mother! Padma cut in, upset. She told us herself! It would be beastly of you to make her go back! Just beastly!

All of you, just _sit down_, or Ill start taking points from Ravenclaw! McGonagall rose to her feet, and the other three sat back down in their chairs. Padma tapped her foot nervously and bit her bottom lip and Morag clenched and unclenched his fists, but no one spoke. Antigone kept crying, but that was the only sound until Professor McGonagall spoke again.

Yes, I said that she might have to go back. But I didnt say she would. This is a special circumstance, and something must be done about it. As is, theres nothing that can be done right now other than reporting it. Ill speak to Professor Dumbledore first thing in the morning and well do our best for you, Miss Moon. Rest assured. Now you all should go to bed. Youve got a week before exams and a lot of studying to do. And Miss Moon?

Yes, Professor McGonagall? Antigone sniffled.

You had better work hard. The past few days of slacking have not impressed me much, and it wont do for us to work at keeping you if you fail out.

Antigone nodded. Now get straight back to your common room, all of you. The four nodded and headed off. Professor Flitwick walked them part of the way.

See, Antigone? Padma said, hugging Antigone protectively. Professor McGonagall is going to talk to the Professor Dumbledore himselfand hes one of the best wizards of our time, if not the best of them all. Hell do something for you, okay? Hes going to examine everything he can before they think of even making you go back to your father. Okay?

Antigone nodded. But what if they cant?

They will, Tig, they will. _I hope._

Antigone threw herself into studying and into her classwork with renewed fervor. If there was any chance for her to stay in Hogwarts, she would not jeopardize it by doing poorly on her exams. Professor Flitwick grinned at her when he saw her diligently practicing her Charms work after class and gave Ravenclaw ten points, and even Professor McGonagall gave her a point or two for trying so hard to make up her bad work the week before. The only person who seemed to be unimpressed was Professor Snape, who worked her no less hard and docked her a full ten points on her homework for not having been there to hear the initial assignment.

She was in that class, working carefully on her potion, when Professor McGonagall stepped in. Professor Snape?

Yes? Snape drawled, though not as cockily as he spoke to students.

Ill need to see Miss Moon for the rest of the class. Send her assignments with Miss Brocklehurst and shell make them up later. Miss Moon, gather your things. 

Antigone winced, then looked up at Snape. He looked disgusted, then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Go on, then, he hissed, and be quick about it.

Carolinas mouth fell open in shock as Antigone hastily stuffed her books and notes into her backpack. Hes not even going to take away points! she whispered quietly, so Snape wouldnt notice. Antigone didnt say anything. She nodded, grabbed the last of her things, and headed to the door where McGonagall was waiting.

Antigone quietly followed her down the halls, until they stopped before a rather large, angry gargoyle. Sugar quill, she said, and the gargoyle hopped aside as the wall split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that moved smoothly upwards. They stepped on it and it carried them up. Antigone closed her eyes so as not to get too dizzy. It wasnt until she heard Professor McGonagall step off at the top that she opened her eyes and stepped off in front of a polished oak door with a griffin-shaped knocker. Professor McGonagall rapped on the door and it opened. Antigone didnt get much time to look around the roomshe only saw the Sorting Hat sitting on a shelf, various silver items, some of the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames, and a pretty red and gold bird about the size of a swan with a long gold tail and alert black eyes. _A phoenix,_ she thought, before her eyes focused on Professor Dumbledore. There was another person sitting in one of the three chairs in the officeEsmerelda in her ministry robes, who rose to her feet and swept Antigone up in a rush of purple.

Oh, sweetie, are you okay? I heard at the office Monday morning what had happened. I got right on it because Id been involved from the start, so I arranged to be here today. I knew it was bad but Id never thought your mother would go back to your father! Had I known Id have helped her out myself, but theres only so much I can do at the officesmost of its dreadful, Ive been filling out parchment after parchment about this and talking to so many othersat least its in the same central department or there would have been more paperwork.

Dumbledore allowed Esmerelda to fuss over Antigone a bit more before he motioned for her to sit in the chair in the center.

Both Miss Toners and Professor McGonagall have told me about your rather unusual circumstances, Miss Moon. He looked over his half-moon glasses at her, and she didnt feel nervous at all. Rather, she felt a little more comforted. I have to admit, these are some rather unusual circumstances. This is the first time since I became Headmaster that I can recall a students parents not wanting a child to return on religious grounds.

Antigone shifted. Er, well, professor, its because of my fatherhes a fundamentalist

Miss Toners has told me a good portion of the situation with your parents, Professor Dumbledore interrupted, nodding. I dare say Yeshua never thought that hed be the cause of so much strife in the world after he passed on. From what Ive read of his personal writings he was a peaceable person, always talking about helping all people, Magic or Mugglepity he died young, but many did back then. Ah, but thats not the point. The fact of the matter is that your father seems to think that magic and Christianity are not to be mixed and he will most likely not allow your return here. And while your mother sent you here in the first place, she has since sided with your father.

Yes, sir. _More like submitted to._

Well, once Minerva had alerted me I spoke to the Liaison Office and they got me right in contact with Miss Toners, as shes already had dealings with your family. She tried to contact your familyeven sent a letter in the Muggle way so that the letter would be as inoffensive as possible, but it seems that your father has made no reply to either letters.

He replied to the second, Esmerelda said bitterly. With a curt note that said only Exodus 22:18, and I know its a verse from the Bible but Im not sure which one.

Thou shall not suffer a witch to live. Antigone recited the verse automatically, then blushed.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, then folded his hands together, as if thinking deeply. Of course, this doesnt make your parents look well in the office. Which might actually make things better in the long run for your case.

Pardon?

Ive petitioned the department to hear your case and decide on the best course of action. This isnt large or bothersome enough to take the Wizengamot, so itll just be the heads of the Department of Muggle Situations and Interactions. I know the head of the M.B.W.W.L.O., hes really very nice.

What do you mean? Antigone looked at Esmerelda.

Basically, Professor Dumbledore has asked the offices to appoint you a magical guardian. Some one to keep you over the summer, or at least a person who will ensure that you return to Hogwarts this fall if we must send you back to your parents.

Antigones eyes widened in delight. _Not have to go back? Ensure I return to Hogwarts? _Are you serious? she asked. That theyll make sure I can come back?

Professor Dumbledore nodded. Ill pass on Professor McGonagalls report and Miss Toners will be speaking on your behalfyoull need to send her the letter you got from your parents right away. Wed send you directly, but exams start next week and you need to review. The teachers have reported your drop off in classes over the past week due to this, he added, and Antigone blushed, but you should be able to make it up after all, being a Ravenclaw. Classes should be over now, but youve got work to do over the next few days.

Yes sir! Ill study my hardest sir!

Dumbledore rose to his feet. Good, Miss Moon. Miss Toners will inform you of the results of the meeting. You may return to your common room.

Antigone kept quiet. It wasnt until she was in the hall, past the gargoyle, that she broke out into a wide happy grin. Sure, shed have to do a lot of studying to make up for the days shed slacked off, but she could pull it off. She practically ran back to Ravenclaw Corners to tell the others.

Padma looked at her issued quill for the exams. It had an Anti-Cheating Charm, so itd be no use looking at any neighbors parchment. Not that she needed tothe night before shed studied all sorts of Charms for two hours, since it wasnt one of her best subjects. She scribbled down everything she could remember about Levitation Charms for a solid hour before their parchments were collected. Then she had to go through a practical, which she found frustrating. Professor Flitwick had called her into his classroom, where a single pineapple was sitting on his desk.

Go ahead, Miss Patil. Make it tap-dance across the desk.

Padma pointed her wand at it. _Perfomia Tapita!_ The pineapple started making soft tapping sounds, and she moved her wand up and down in a line. She made it almost to the endquite wobbly, she was ashamed to saybefore the pineapple sat back down and moved no further.

Hmm, not quite all the way, but good. He dismissed her.

The Herbology exam was the easiest for her, as she was best at that subject. Shed sorted and properly labeled each of the four plants in Professor Sprouts greenhouse and written down what their uses were without a stumble. History of Magic was fairly difficult, as shed gotten a few of the laws mixed up, but overall shed felt shed done well. She spent all night studying with the others, with Carolina giving her some pointers.

Transfiguration would have probably gone a lot better if her snuffbox hadnt skittered off the desk and gotten caught in the trap at the end of the desk. And Padma didnt mess up at all on her Forgetfulness potion, setting a neat vial on Snapes desk labeled properly.

Antigone was the last one out of the classroom, finally bottling a liquid only a shade off the color it should have been and scrambling out. It had been their last exam, and as they walked out Antigone sighed heavily. I think thats the worst potion Ive ever made, she whined. It took me twice as long as the rest of you and it was still oddly colored. Im going to fail.

I dont think so, Tig, Padma said. Well, no worries. Weve got a whole week off. Nothing to do, and no classes.

Youre right, Carolina said, whistling cheerfully. I think I did super in Transfigurationit should balance my score in History of Magic.

Nothing to do but wait until we get our results, Morag said, flopping down on the grass. Well, that and the Ravenclaw match against Gryffindor. But thats two days from now. He reached into his satchel and pulled out his deck of Exploding Snap. Fancy a game?

The four played against each other, Carolina losing spectacularly. Then Carolina taught the others how to play Hearts with a Muggle deck shed brought home during the holidays. They whiled away the afternoon in card games mostly, with Morag ducking off for an hour to play Quidditch. Finally that night, they curled up with books in Ravenclaw Corners and read before bed. Padma was glad to see Antigone once again nose deep in _As the Gods Make It, _but she also had a copy of _Magical Mending and Repair_, having mentioned something about needing to clean up her robes. They finally all curled up in their beds, and Padma fell asleep, glad to have nothing to worry about.

The next morning on her way to breakfast Parvati flew at her, knocking her over. Morag raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and Carolina giggled. (Antigone was asleep stillshe had been up most of the night and was opting to skip breakfast and just eat a large lunch. Carolina had promised to sneak a plate back to her in case she woke up before noon.)

Oh, Padma, have you heard? Im hoping you havent, I havent got to tell you any good gossip since Harry, Neville, and Hermione lost all those points for us but it doesnt matter anymore, who cares about points when Harrys done something justOh Merlin!

Parvati, let go, Padma said, trying to push her twin sister off her. What idle gossip do you have now?

Its not idle, its important, I pressed Ron and Hermione for it all night, and they wouldnt talk at first but once I kept prodding they told Lavender and I all about itshes off telling Susan Bones right now, shell want to know right away of course

Know what? What are you talking about?

Oh, Harry went after the Philosophers Stone last night! He fought off You-Know-Who!

The what? Carolina asked.

He fought who? Morag blinked. He wasnt one for gossip, but even Padma noted this was something big.

Last night Dean Thomas went out to go take a bathhes really odd you know? Bathes really late at night if he cant sleep, says it soothes himanyway, he was headed for the baths when he saw Neville lying on the floor in the Full Body Bind. Another Gryffindor must have done it to him; its not like that time he dragged himself through the passage to our Common Room cursed with the Leg-Locker Curse, though that was hilarious. Anyway, once Dean had taken pity on him and unlocked him, Neville told him that Hermione Granger had done it. No one would have expected that of her.

Hermione? That buck-toothed girl with bushy brown hair? Carolina said.

Thats not nice to say, Padma chided. Shes quite nice, weve studied with her once in a while.

Well its true, Parvati cut in. She should really do something about that hair, Marilyn and I tried to give her suggestions and she wouldnt listen at all. Anyways, she and Ron were gone most of the night. They finally were escorted in late last night, with some injuriesRon looked like hed been stunned a bit but was mostly okay, theyd had to stop by the Hospital Wing first. So since half the house was up anyways we pressed them and they told us that the Philosophers Stone had been kept in Hogwarts all year, itd been brought here for safekeeping by Professor Dumbledore and theyd been looking into it all year, but that one of the teachers had gone after it!

Whats the Philosophers Stone? Carolina asked, a bit more urgently.

Morag spoke up. I read about it the other day in an alchemy bookits got astonishing powers, turns any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life, which if imbibed on a regular basis makes the drinker immortal. Only ones ever been made though, and to know it was kept here, that is fascinating!

Parvati dismissed that with a wave of a hand and a sniff. Honestly. Thats not important. Ravenclaw, always reading more than they have to. Lot of bookworms, nothing better to do than read all the time and top each other in marks.

Hey! Padma snapped. Shed been the one to check the book outshe was interested in Alchemy.

Oh, youre not so bad, Padma. You dont have your nose stuck in a book all the timeonly half of the time. Parvati went on as though she hadnt insulted Padmas entire House. Well, theyd all gone down to stop whoever was stealing the StoneI bet it was Snape, that grimy slugand Harry hasnt been seen since! I wonder if he died? Her eyes took on a mystic, odd look, and Padma bit her tongue.

Wouldnt they have told you if he died? Carolina asked. Padma detected a nasty tone in her voice. _Im upset myself. Parvati going on about us being a load of bookworms, and were one of the most creative houses here!_

Well maybe. Parvati looked embarrassed.

Hmph. There goes Gryffindor again, not thinking before they speak or act. Morag was curt.

Oh shut up! At least my name isnt for the wrong gender and people dont mistake me for a girl!

Oh, so youre saying youre not a girl? Carolina hissed. Funny, I thought you and Padma were identical twins. But if youre a boy then you must be fraternal. Good Charm youve got there to disguise it, though Im surprised you can do it since Hermione told me you dont half study for class. Padma turned to look at Carolina in surpriseshe knew Carolina could be bitingly sarcastic but hadnt seen her use it much.

Parvatis cheeks flushed in anger. Ooo! Jealous, the both of you, just jealous! Just because Gryffindors got the famous Harry Potter, and he was out doing some thing brave and honorable last night instead of staying up half the night reading uselessly when we dont even have any more classes this year! What would you have done if youd faced You-Know-Who, hmm? _Bored _him to death? Lectured him away? She inhaled sharply, as if offended. I hope we trounce you tomorrow at Quidditch!

Its the only way youve got at the moment to make up for those points the so-called honorable Harry Potter lost you before exams, Carolina quipped. Or did you forget about all that, along with your need to study anything?

Beasts! The both of you! Parvati flounced off, braid bouncing behind her.

 Honestly, thats not important,  Carolina drawled, mimicking Parvati. How rude!

Lot of bookworms my arse, Morag snapped. Bet we all three outperformed her on exams. Come on, Carolina, Im hungry. The two walked off, the Carolina turned to face Padma. Are you coming too?

Er, yeah, Padma replied, catching up. _Merlin! Parvatis never acted like that to my friends before. Whats gotten into her?_ She shrugged. _Ill talk about it to her on the train and clear it all up. Hopefully._

The next day dawned bright, clear, and warm. Carolina ate a quick breakfast with her friends and they headed out to the Quidditch pitch, getting good seats. Cho slid in beside them, holding a small blue banner to cheer for Ravenclaw. Hope we do good todaythis is the first time weve played Gryffindor, I wonder how our team will hold up against them today. I hope we do well.

I hope we trounce them, Morag huffed. He was still offended at what Parvati had said. Padma also looked offended, as she didnt wave her sister over when they entered the stands and Parvati went to go sit with the other Gryffindors. Lawrence lent me his binoculars, said theyre no good to him while hes playing today. He scanned the players, all warming up. Theres Lawrence, throwing the practice Quaffle with the other Chasers. The oldest onell be gone next year, therell be a spot open for someone else to play. Ill try out. Not sure Ill get a spot but Ive been practicing loads with Lawrence. Hmmthats interesting

What? Carolina asked.

Potters not there.

What? Antigone gasped. Nowhere to be seen?

Not a sign.

From what Parmy sister told me, Padma said, noticing the glares from Morag and Carolina and changing mid-sentence, hes in the hospital wing and has been since last night. But the way she talked he was sure to be up and on a broom, no harm no foul.

The Gryffindor captain was down on the ground, fussing with Madam Hooch, who seemed incensed herself. Finally she pointed to the sky, and he flew up. Five team members, clad in scarlet, flew over to him while they huddled. Then two of the ChasersGryffindors team had all femaleswhimpered, and the Weasley twins looked disgusted.

From the Gryffindor stands there was an audible groan. Carolina only took a few seconds to figure it out before doubling over in peals of laughter.

What is it? Padma and Antigone turned to look at her, but Carolina was laughing too hard to speak. Between her shrieks she heard some of the Gryffindors miserably complaining.

Thats horribly unfair! He wasnt expected to

shouldnt have sacked the reserve, then

How are we going to make this one up?

Morag was the second to start laughing, chuckles welling up and bubbling out. Carolina let out another high pitched squeal and fell over laughing. Theydonthavea Seeker! Carolina finally managed to choke out before being overcome by laughter.

Chos mouth fell open. Youre kidding.

Carolina managed to shake her head, hand over her mouth.

And right after they got Potter, Oliver Wood sacked their reservesaid he wasnt needed anymore. He was a fifth-year; took it quite hard when he found out, Morag muttered, holding his sides.

And with no reserve, theyve got no choice but to play Antigone started, but Padma finished.

Seekerless.

Carolina screeched out another laugh. Id like to see us get trounced when they have no Seeker!

The game was easier than any of them had expected. Ravenclaw completely flattened Gryffindorwhile they managed to get a good number of goals, it wasnt enough to over take the total once Ravenclaw caught the Snitch. As the four walked out of the stands, Carolina couldnt resist snapping at Parvati, So, you hope we get what? The flush to Parvatis cheeks was worth it. As they walked off snickering, they stole a glance at the hourglasses. The total was enough to launch them back into second place, but Carolina was sobered by seeing Slytherin in a firm first.

Not cheering so much now, hmm? a snide voice said. The four saw Alph Kamain standing there, with Moira Ryans. Despite your illustrious performance out there today, were still ahead. And with the last totals, I dare say that gives us the House Cup seventh year running. Hope you dont mind it all being decked out in silver and greenas usual, he added snidely.

Morag looked like he wanted to sock Alph but he simply turned and headed off. The others were behind him. Hes right, you know? he sulked as soon as theyd gotten a safe distance off. Were only second.

Well, its better than last. Carolina said. Day after tomorrows the Great Feast, and then we get our grades. Right? I bet we did loads better over the term than themwe saw them in Herbology, Moira couldnt remember which way up was a gillyweed She patted Morags shoulder firmly.

Right lot of bookworms we are, Cho added, but we do have the sense to have a backup Seeker. Come on, Ravenclaws, we won. Tonights the night for a party of our own again!

Chapter 13

Back to Tales From the Quill


	13. Homeward Bound

Birds of a Feather  
Book One: First Flight  
by Nethilia

Authors note: The End! Hurray! And don't think this is the last time you'll see these four. I'm working on BoaF 2 as we speak. Matter of fact, I'll be far into it soon. So get ready for more of these guys. Like I'd leave you hanging.

Chapter Thirteen:  
Homeward Bound

Morag had planned on packing earlyhe didnt want to spend most of the next day stuffing odds and ends into his trunk. After all, it was the night of the feast and he didnt want to miss a bit of it. He was distracted, however, by a note dropped on his breakfast that morning. Wiping the butter from the envelope, he opened it to see a short, quick note.

Morag

Ill be at the Three Broomsticks the day of the feast for an hour. Meet me, if you can; if not, send a note. If nothing else, I hope to see you at Platform Nine and Three-Quartersif youll have me there.

Uncle Alex

Morag didnt need to read it twice. He stuffed the letter in his robes and made a great show of needing to return some books to the library before making his way out of the Great Hall. He was at the mirror, nudging it open, when Professor Snape made his way around the corner. He took one look at the partially open mirror, Morag, and his wand, and got a rather nasty look on his face. Morags heart sank.

A first-year attempting to sneak off the grounds? Snapes tone was particularly nasty. On the day of the Great Feast, tooplanning to sneak over and grab a few pranks from Zonkos to set off at the feast tonight? Perhaps you just wanted to see if you could get away with it? I wonder how many points I shall take from Ravenclaw for thisnot that it matters, youve lost the house cup anyway, but losing points after termbad form there. I dont reckon your Housemates will be pleased with you then

Morags teeth clenched. Before he could control it, hed started hissing things under his breath, loud enough to be heard. Go ahead then! Take every point Ravenclaws got! Not like it matters. Slytherins already won, and itll only put us behind Gryffindorits not as if I havent lost a lot of points before. Ill just get shunned again, but its better than your lot! If my Uncle Alex is anything like you filthy Slytherins, only looking out for yourselves, just go ahead! Dock the points and get it over with, and show that youre all alike! Itll prove that everything about Slytherin and the MacDougals is true. Ill never deal with my uncle again, if hes anything like you! He stood there trembling as Snape turned to face him. Hed meant to be overheard, and this would probably get him expelled. But when there was no chance of making up lost House Points, there was no reason to hold back. At the least, Morag wouldnt have to see the Potions Master before the start of next term.

Snape sneered at Morag fiercely. If looks could have killed, Morag wouldnt have made it to the Feast. Ten points for being such an insufferable smart mouth, Mr. MacDougal, and be grateful I dont take more! he hissed tightly. Morag glared defiantly, waiting for more punishment. Then Snapes expression softened a bit.

I wouldnt be so harsh on the MacDougals on account of Slytherin House, at least, not because of Alexander.

Pardon? Morag looked up at him, clearly shocked.

He was a classmate of mine. His brother, GeoffreyIm guessing thats your father? Morag nodded. Professor Snape looked pensive. He was two years earlier, himself, with Opaline right between them. Each was Sorted into Slytherinreally, no one expected less of the MacDougals. Top marksGeoff was all set to go into the Ministry. Great at Quidditch, he never took lip from any Gryffindors, though none crossed his path. Everyone expected his brother and sister to follow right behind him. He knew tons of curses and jinxes. Taught them to Alex as well, though Opaline wouldnt have anything to do with them.

Then, right after Alex and I left Hogwarts, Geoff met this pretty Muggle girl. Mavericka, her name. It wasnt a good time to be getting married, what with the Dark Lord on the rise. But Geoff felt hed be safe with a Muggle if he didnt take sides and just stayed out of the spotlight. Things would be okay, he later told menot that I was keeping much of an ear out for them. I had my own tasks Snape looked darkly towards the floor. The MacDougals were so disgusted they disowned them all. The whole trio. I didnt heard another thing until after the fall of the Dark Lord. Alex found me later and told me Geoff had died. Hed been in France during the War, felt it safest there. And he told me that itd been Opalines fault Geoff had died.

Aunt Opaline? But she said that Uncle Alex was to It clicked before he could even finish. _They blame each other. _

Snape looked down. His face was neutralnot angry, but not pleased. It was probably the most Morag could expect.

Indeed, young MacDougal. Your uncle and aunt both think that the other is the cause of their brothers death. I doubt they both will ever reconcileshe has pointedly ignored him and hes had no one to turn to for comfort since Geoff died and has had nothing to do with her, to my knowledge. Morag didnt bring up that hed sent Uncle Alex to go talk to her. I expect that, if you have been in contact with Alex, you have been a bright spot in his life. But Alex is not the kind to hurt his brother. No, he would have fought the Dark Lord himself, had he not been instructed to go into hiding. Snape looked over Morags head, as if lost in thought. If you need to ask anyone about Alex, ask me, when Im not occupied. I know more about your family than most of the teachers here. Then he snapped back to his regular attitude.

But, dangerous or not, I will not have first-years wandering all over the grounds like this. Return to your common room immediately, Mister MacDougal, or Ill do as you so eloquently put it and take every point Ravenclaws got.  He motioned with his free hand, closing the mirror with the other.

Morag hightailed it back to his common room. Hed gotten off light and there was no reason to stick around and get in more trouble. Against his better judgment, he made a quick stop at the Owlery. He needed to inform Uncle Alex that he wouldnt be able to make it out that day, but sincerely hoped to see him at Kings Cross.

Carolina checked her hat in one of the mirrors to make sure it pointed straight up before the prefects conducted everyone to the Great Feast. As they filed into the Great Hall, Carolina tensed at the green and silver banners that fluttered around, and the huge banner on the wall behind the High Table showing the Slytherin serpent. Carolina was so angry she couldnt speak. She noticed that Quirrells seat was empty, and she shivered to herself. The news had come out of Gryffindorfrom Hermione Granger, who got along well with a few of the Ravenclaws and had spoken to Carolina herself in the library that afternoonthat hed been the one after the Stone, and that You-Know Who had been attached to his head, which is why hed worn that turban all year. Hed even tried to curse Harry earlierduring the Quidditch match against Slytherin, itd been him trying to shake him off the broom. Purple had never been Carolinas favorite color, but now she positively disliked it. _Im glad hes gone, then, if he was involved with You-Know-Who. To think, every time I was in Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of the darkest wizards ever was there the whole time, listening as we did our lessons._

People kept talking under their breath, the Slytherins smirking and boasting the whole time. Morag was grumbling about how he wanted to slap the snide little smirk off of Moiras face when Harry Potter walked in. A hush fell, and then everyone started talking loudly again, as if not to draw attention to him. Carolina stood up to look at himshe wasnt sure if that was really a bandage peeking out from under his robeswhen the talk died away. She sat down and turned to face Dumbledore, who held his arms out.

Another year gone! he said, beaming brightly. And I must trouble you with an old mans wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. He continued on, finally getting on to the House Cup. Now as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six

Would have been thirty-six, but for that incident earlier, Morag mumbled.

It could have been much worse, Morag, you know it, Carolina chided.

four hundred and seventy-two.

The Slytherins started stamping and cheering. Carolina could see some Seventh-years at the table whooping and cheering, and she realized theyd won the House Cup all the years theyd been here. Beastly, she hissed under her breath.

Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, and at this, the Slytherins froze mid-cheer, recent events must be taken into account.

The Slytherins, along with everyone else, became very still.

What do you think hes doing? Morag whispered.

He says there are some last minute-points to give out. Padmas eyes were wide.

Can he do that? Carolina said breathily.

Of course, hes the headmaster.

Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.

Gryffindor cheers nearly reached the ceiling, and Carolina quickly told the others, He navigated them past Professor McGonagalls chess sethes very good at the game.

Theyre at three sixty-two, then, Lawrence said, having figured the numbers out in his head.

Once the noise had died down, Professor Dumbledore spoke again. Secondto Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.

Carolina saw Hermione bury her face in her armsshe was either blushing or had burst into tears.

Four twelve now, Lawrence announced.

Third, to Mister Harry Potter Silence fell, and Carolina swore she could feel the tension in the room. for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.

The noise was deafening, and Carolina could barely hear Lawrence mutter, That ties them with Slytherin! Thats not fair at all, theyve placed us in third with one awarding of points!

Well, he did stop You-Know-Who, Antigone said. Im surprised it wasnt more, though then it would have been a win instead of a tie.

Gradually quiet fell as all turned to look at Professor Dumbledore. There are all kinds of courage, he spoke, a smile going over his face. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to he looked at a round-faced boy, who looked to be trembling in his spot at the Gryffindor table, Mister Neville Longbottom.

The noise reached cacophonous levels, and Carolina could barely hear her own cheering as she leapt to her feet, whooping. No, Ravenclaw hadnt won, but SlytherinSlytherin had been defeated, and to that even she could cheer. Morag screamed his delight. Padma only said, Oh, therell be no living with Parvati after this, but the grin on her face was a mile wide. Carolina turned and blew a big fat raspberry to Moira Ryans, who looked like shed been force fed her own robes. All of Slytherin looked pained, and one of the Seventh-Year girls looked like she was crying.

Carolina didnt hear what Dumbledore said, but she saw him clap his hands. The green rippled into scarlet and the silver burst into gold; the hissing Slytherin serpent became a massive Gryffindor lion. Carolina could hear one of the Gryffindors loudly. Never won a point for us before, and then puts us over the top for the house cup!

Carolina cheered and whooped and screamed so much her throat felt hoarse. _No, Ravenclaw hadnt won,_ she thought as Antigone hugged her tightly around the middle. _But it certainly wasnt Slytherin._

Antigone had nearly forgotten, in the excitement at the Great Feast, about her grades. She hadnt forgotten about her note from Esmerelda though. It arrived by Ministry owl in a thick parchment envelope at breakfast three days later.

Carolina saw it too. As soon as she, Carolina, and Morag were out on the grounds and curled up under a treePadma was off under a nearby tree comparing grades with ParvatiCarolina squeaked, Open it, open it!

After my grades, Antigone said. _That way if I know Im not coming back, I can know that Im a good witch first. Perhaps theres a magical school in the StatesI could always try to find one myself later on.... _She shook her head and slit open her envelope.

She expected her Potions grades to be abysmal; as it was, they were low but not disgustingly so. Shed managed to scrape up a barely-passing grade. While it was the lowest of the Ravenclaws, it wasnt the worst; shed heard Neville groaning over by some of the Gryffindors and suspected he was at the bottom. However, her Charms marks were top of the class, shed nearly tied with Hermione Granger and had with

Top marks in Charms! Morag grinned, squeezing Antigone tightly. We would have beaten Hermione, but she did extra work and got a hundred and twelve. We each got only one hundred and nine, but thats still bloody good! And it makes up for my not so good Transfiguration grade; my snuffbox had tiny whiskers and was a little fuzzy in places, but I aced the written part.

I got top marks there, Carolina grinned. Lost points in Astronomystupid stars, its hard to make out Libra anyways. And I didnt do as bad in History of Magic as I thought I did.

They could hear shouting under another tree, and turned to see Padma hollering back at her equally angry twin. It wasnt long before Padma marched over to where they were, flouncing down onto the grass. I cant believe itIm so disgusted! she fussed.

Your grades?

No, no, Padma said, waving her hand. I did very well in everythingwell, all but Charms and History of Magic, I mixed quite a few dates up and so only did average, but both Astronomy and Herbology was excellent and it balances out. Oh no, its not me at allits Parvati!

What about her?

She did horriblyfar below what shes capable ofand barely passed two subjects! The only high grade she got was in Astronomyshe might as well not have cracked a book the whole time for studyand when I asked, shed said shed been too busy talking with Lavender Brown to bother studying at all! She looked over to where Parvati was now making a dramatic show of sobbing into Lavender Browns robes. Mother and Father are going to give her a firm talking to the second we get home. They both had always done very well here. Shes never going to hear the end of it. Sometimes I think youre right, Moragall brawn and no brain, those Gryffindors, and theyve gotten to my sister. Why didnt she choose Ravenclaw?

I guess shed rather be brave and popular than smart and not so popular, said Carolina. Anyway, the Hat Sorts the student; the student doesnt choose the House. I heard Lisa Turpins right behind Hermione for top student, Carolina went on to say. Apparently the two have been getting along excellently and they reviewed together. Not that Lisas needed loads of it, but still. Well, weve all announced our grades. Tig, go ahead and open the letter.

What letter? Padma looked. Oh, a Ministry Letter! It must be the results of the hearing. Open it and read it aloud.

If they wont let you stay, well protest, Morag said determinedly. Well make them let you stay, even if you have to stay at Hogwarts all summer with Peeves.

With trembling hands, Antigone split the seal and opened it. There were two letters folded together, and she read the one on top first, which was addressed to Miss Antigone Moon, Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 Dear Miss Moon: An interim finding has been made by the heads of the Department of Muggle Situations and Interactions on the tenth of June as to whether you should return to the custody of Mr. and Mrs. Clayton Moonthose are my parents.

 Based on the reports of Miss Esmerelda Toners (Muggle-Born Witch and Wizard Liaison Office) and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry), along with the high risk that your parents will neither return you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry nor enroll you into another accredited magical school, we have determined to remove you from the care of your parents until you return in the fall. A full investigation will then be conducted, whereupon a permanent decision on your residence will be reached.

 A Ministry-appointed guardian, Miss Toners, has offered to take you under her care for the summer or until such time as your permanent placement has been decided  She looked up, eyes sparkling with tears. Theres other official stuff, about the next hearing and other notes, and its been signed by the Head of the M. B. W. W. L. O., buttheyve told me that Im staying with Esmerelda this summer. Its only the summer but

Carolina gasped. Only? Its the whole summer! Tig, thats wonderful! Shell drop you at Kings Cross proper!

Morag swept Antigone off her feet and spun her in a circle. Youre coming back to Hogwarts, Tig! Antigone was somewhat worried, as she hadnt heard about what to do about her parents once they got to Kings Cross or read the second letter. But she had to admit that right now things sounded good.

The next morning Padma was all packed and ready to head home. Each student was warned not to use magic over the holidays. They rode back over the lake on smoothly gliding boats as Morag looked as though he was going to be sick, and then they were on the train. Padma had been offered a seat with Morag, Antigone, and Carolina but she had said she would go spend some time with her sister, to talk about her grades and how shed acted before the last match, before she made it their way.

She felt it was a waste of time once she saw Lavender Brown inside, giggling and gabbing. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot were there as well. Wheres Mandy? she asked. I thought you were going to invite her over too.

Oh, she didnt want to be over here, Lavender babbled. Said she was discussing dragons with Oliver Hutchins and Terry Boothonestly, weve only got a month and half off for hols and shes doing _book_ work...anyways, where was I?

You were talking about Lisa Turpin, Parvati cut in.

Oh yes. Did you see her outfit shes picked out for the station? Lavender rolled her eyes in disgust. Just jeans and a shirt and her old ratty sneakers. If were going to have to all dress like Muggles anyways we might as well look good, right? Im wearing my pink top, its just wonderful, and my mum will hate the modification but she cant say anything in front of everyone. Padma blinkedit was a loose pink top that had been modified to hang off of one shoulder.

Ooh, can you do that to my shirt? Parvati asked.

Sure, its an easy piece of charm work, you just

Parvati, you know Mother wont want you wearing your shirt half off, Padma fussed.

Oh, Padma, youre such a wet blanket. Mother will be upset but I can reverse it later.

Ill be surprised that you can reverse it at all, what with your poor performance in Charms.

Not on about that, again, are you? Parvati groaned. You should have come to Gryffindor, then maybe you wouldnt be so stiff and worried all the time. You never have any fun anymore, its because of that boring group youre always around. Its not like the grades matter too much, Im not out of Hogwarts--

Padmas cheeks turned pink. You didnt do that great, either! And maybe if youd gone to Ravenclaw you have done better on your exams--

Oh, look! Susan Bones squeaked, cutting them both off. Theres a pic in _Teen Witch Weekly _of the newest Puddlemere United Beater, Ted Baumgartnerand hes got his robe off from the waist up!

There were girlish squeals and catcalls as the magazine revealed a young muscled man holding a Beater's bat, flexing and blowing kisses all around. Padma took that moment to storm out, making her way back to where her friends were.

As soon as she walked in, Morag spoke up. Nothing doing with her scores, then?

Nothing at all! Shes more interested in cooing over Quidditch stars and modifying her clothing than her grades! Honestlyand she called me a wet blanket! Said I should have gone to Gryffindor, that I was stiff and worried and

And that your friends are boring?

Padma nodded, hurt. Just because she wants to worry about how she looks and not how shes doing in class

Well, shes changed here at Hogwarts, Carolina added, and so have you. Youre going in separate directions. You probably wont like it now but itll turn out okay. I mean, when we were Sorted she went right over to Gryffindor. And would you have really hung out with all of us if youd spent all year having to keep mind on Parvati?

Padma nodded. I guess youre right, she said. She also talks in her sleep at times, youd have hated to have her in the dormitory.

Antigone gave one of her shy smiles. Its almost time for lunch, and I bet if we pool our money we can get a lot of stuffmore than separately.

Great idea, Tig! Morag had already turned out his pockets, setting his change neatly on the floor, and Carolina had joined him. Ive got a Galleon, about twenty Sicklesthats at least one more Galleonand lots of Knuts. Carolina, set your two Galleons over here. That makes three, enough for at least two pasties and a Cauldron Cake each, he said as he scribbled on a parchment with a Muggle felt pen hed fished out, marking off funds and multiplying fast. If we can get together another two Sickles thats a super sized bag of Every Flavor Beans. Its the best value really. Well get more than enough for all four of us for the price of four regular bags and we can just weigh them out so theyre even. I saved my bags from the start of the term, so we can make sure we each get a good variety of flavors. But I wont eat the black ones at all. Ive had one that tasted like fresh tar, and Im not chancing it again.

Antigone opened her backpack and fished out her brass scales. We can use mine. I gave them a good clean washing right before Id packed them so theyd be pristine over the holidaysI remember theres fifteen ounces in the super bags so thats about four ounces each.

Three and three quarters, Padma said, grinning broadly. Shed always been good at a lot of mental math, especially fractions. And Ive got ten Sickles and twenty Knuts, Thatll get us all two Chocolate Frogs as well as cover the cost of the beans.

Lets make it three, Antigone said, handing over a few more Knuts and a sickle. Lets see if we cant buy one more cake to split four ways.

Morag was almost disappointed when the train had pulled up to Kings Cross. Hed already pulled on his jacket and stuffed the rest of his Every Flavor Beans in his pocket. Theyd spent all of their money save for twenty Knuts and four Sickles, which they split evenly among them, in the process getting everything they wanted. Carolina had bought her own pack of Licorice Wands since the other three werent so fond of them.

Theyd all exchanged addresses, promising to owl each other at least weekly, and Carolina said shed ask Esmerelda for her phone number and get it to Morag later. Padma was sad she didnt have a telephone and Carolina nor her father knew anything about the Floo Network, but they all promised to meet up and go shopping together for supplies. Most of the trip had been discussion of books, spells, and some discussion of Dean Thomas, who was a great artist and had been showing Morag some fundamentals of drawing which he shared in turn with the others.

It was with somewhat heavy footsteps that hed gotten off the train. Many parents were on the platform there, but some had waited outside. Hovering his trunk in front of himreading up on that in the spell book ahead in the library meant not having to get help to carry it, and it wasnt quite outside to the Muggles yet. As soon as he was off the train hed been swept up by his mother in a tight hug.

My big boy! she cooed, smoothing his hair. How was your first year? Can you show me any magic laterwell, not too much, dont want you getting in trouble, but Geoff was always good at Charms.

Opaline was there as well, chirping over Miriam. An internship at Madame Malkins! Im so proud! Its not a high paying job but we can get you a nice flat in London near Diagon Alley. My girl all grown up and out of Hogwarts! Your father would be so proud!

There was a rustle beside Morag as Carolina flew towards her father, and he swept her up into his big strong arms. Then he heard a voice from the far away side of the platform, one hed heard before.

I made it, Morag.

Morag turned to see grey eyes behind small glasses, and he cried out without thinking. Uncle Alex!

The rest of his family turned to face him. Opaline stiffened, Miriam gasped, and Morags mother held her hands over her mouth. Before Morag could wave him over, Opaline had marched over, her cheeks red with rage. You disgusting, filthy traitor! she screamed, drawing attention of many of the students who hadnt left through the barrier. How dare you show your face, you evil, traitorous, dirty!

Morag asked me to come, Uncle Alex said, paling in anger.

Oh and Im not supposed to believe youve bewitched or tricked him? How dare you even think to speak to him after what you did to Geoff! And Mavericka! How do you think she feels, seeing the person whod gotten her husband killed and left her a widow?

It was not my doing that killed Geoffrey, Opaline. Alex was terse, but Opaline kept screaming.

Oh, and I bet you still think its my doing, dont you? That Im the reason our big brother was killed? It was bad enough you showed up at my door the other month but now youre skulking about Morag even after I told you to go away! Well I tell you what, Alexander, you stay the hell away from my nephew!

If youd told him about the MacDougals then he wouldnt have contacted me. And if youd told him about me he wouldnt have done it behind your back.

Am I to believe that tripe? That you wouldnt have tried to find him? I wish hed never bothered to owl you, then I wouldnt have to see your face ever again!

That can be arraigned, Alex said curtly, turning towards the exit.

No, Alex! Morags mother called out, and he turned in his tracks to look at her. Opaline gasped, and Miriam looked like she was going to throw up.

Alex looked at her. You heard Opaline. She wishes I stay away from _her_ family and _her_ nephew.

Alexbut hes your nephew as well! She burst into tears.

Opaline turned towards Morags mother. See, hes hurting you again! Let him go away and back into hiding where he belongs!

Shut up! Morags mother screeched. I havent seen him in nine years. I dont care what you say, I miss him, Opaline! Morags been contacting him all year and must have seen him at least onceis that right, Morag?

Morag nodded. _Best not to tell her how right now._

and if he hasnt done anything to Morag, then he cant be all bad, can he? She looked up at Alex, then threw her arms around him. Oh, I havent seen you since that dreadful night!

Opalines lips were set in a thin line. She spun on her heel and marched off. Miriam followed her with her trunk on a trolley. Morag watched her storm off and he tensed up. Then a hand landed on his shoulder, and Morag looked up at his uncle. Hed guided his trunk onto one of the trolleys.

Shall we go get some teaIve learned to drive one of those Muggle carriages, a car, is it?and over scones we can discuss how Morag found out all about me, Mavericka.

Id like that, Morags mother said, smiling. But first, Morag do you want to introduce me to your friends?

And this is Padma Patil, Papa, Carolina bubbled. And this is her father and her baby brother Amar, and thats her twin sister Parvatiwell, right now shes being fussed at by their mother, so we wont interrupt.

Caroline's papa took Padmas hand and shook it kindly, then gave her father a good firm shake. Pleased to meet you, he said to both.

Padmas wizard-born but she doesnt have an advantage over me there, and she was Sorted into the same house, along with myself and Tigthats what we nicknamed Antigoneand Morag too. I told you all about it at Christmas Holidays. Weve all become great friends and Im going to owl them every week and well exchange treats too!

Speaking of Antigone, where is she? her papa asked, looking around.

Morags Uncle Alexhe didnt look as bad as Carolina had feared, though his hair was longer than normalnoticed them and waved them over. She remembers me from our meeting, he said as Antigone and Esmerelda came over. Mistook her for Morag at first, what with his name being a girls nameoh, dont blush so bad, Morag, I explained it to you back then. While there were a few Ministry officials out, only Esmerelda was from the M.B.W.W.L.O. She had her official robes on, and a neat pair of slacks and blouse underneath.

Oh, hello, Esmerelda, Papa said. Come to escort Antigone to her mother? Did she not come along?

Esmerelda looked grim and Antigones hands tensed around Shadows carrier. Youll see outside. Shell probably be waiting there. No use waiting much longer Antigone, theyre probably outside.

Antigone gulped. Carolina gave her a reassuring pat, but other than that she could be of no help. It was up to Esmerelda and Antigone.

Antigone had read the second notefrom Esmereldaover and over in the last few days at Hogwarts and partway on the train back. It had been shorter and less formal than the Ministry letter, and since Esmerelda had needed to send off the first one and seal it shed slipped in a note to Antigone to reassure her that things were going to be okay and shed be right on the platform to get her. But it was different on the train and at Hogwarts to feel reassured. Here, with only the barrier between her and her parents, it was like walking into the jaws of a beast.

Esmerelda and she were the last of the group to come out, but the others were looking towards the conservatively dressed couple on the platforms. Morags shoulder was tightly gripped by his uncle, as if to hold him back. Carolina was clutching her fathers right arm, and Padma was peeking out from behind her trolley. Her mother had taken Parvati off by her shoulder earlier to continue her fussing near the cabs, taking Amar with her, and only her father was there.

She hadnt seen her father since July, and seeing him again made her heart leap into her throat. He was there, all six feet of him, imposing in his dark suit and tie, with angry eyes. Her mother had her head down as she stood behind him, once again in her long skirts. Antigone was glad for a moment that she was wearing a skirt, though it was shorter than the one's shed worn before she came to Hogwarts. Even Shadow was silent, staring out of his carrier.

Antigone Sarah Moon. Her father spoke in his terse, commanding voice. Come over here right now and bring me your things. They are going to be destroyed, so you wont have any more temptations to follow the dark arts anymore. In a month youll be in the States, in a school the light of the good Lord shines on, where His Word is law, and there wont be any more of that witchcraft under my roof.

Antigone froze in place, swallowing. Before she could say anything, Esmerelda spoke up.

So, you are back to Mr. and Mrs. Clayton Moon, then? As late as December your wife was still back to Lorna Davies, I recall. She looked pointedly at Mrs. Moon.

Antigones father spoke as her mothers eyes lowered to the ground. I speak for my wife, maam. Return my daughter and give her things to me. I am her father.

And I am her court-appointed guardian. Esmerelda motioned to her badge.

I was not summoned to court regarding anything about my daughter.

I mailed you myself. Twice.

I do not heed orders from Satans harlots. You should know your place.

Esmerelda held her head up high and looked him in the eye. Well, since you didnt answer, the heads of the department decided without your inputnot that a stubborn Muggle like you would have even been able to get to the officesand since you didnt send anything to hold up your side, it was determined that Miss Moon have a guardian to ensure her safe return to Hogwarts this fall term. Your daughters skills at magic--

Work of the devil! her daddy boomed, and Antigone whimpered softly.

Magicproper, honorable magic

I will not have Satan under my roof! Antigone could see the anger build up in her fathers eyes, and he looked as if he would explode. In three quick strides, he was nearly upon Antigone, but Esmerelda was quicker, and he froze at the sight of her wand out at the ready as she stepped in front of Antigone. Antigone heard a small gasp from Padma, but there was otherwise silence. The other Muggles on the platform hadnt noticed, continuing to march by as if nothing was wrong, but a couple of the other students turned to see. Most were waving to Harry Potter as he made his way off with a purple faced man, his thin horsy wife, and their waddling son.

Your daughters skills at magic, Esmerelda repeated, clearly emphasizing the word magic, are such that if she is not properly trained she will not know what to do later in life and it may very well drive her insane or cause grave danger to herself and others. Where she is now, she will get the best magical training this side of the Atlantic, and no school you could think to send her to will beat out or suppress that fact. Your daughter is a witch, Mr. Moon, and primed to become a good one at that. She has nothing to do with this Satan of yours. The Ministry of Magic will not allow a child to not return to Hogwarts without good reason, and your overly strict following of the laws of a Muggle belief systemone based around one of our kindis not a valid reason.

YOU WILL NOT SLANDER MY LORD GOD-- her father roared, reaching for Esmerelda, but she pointed the wand out straight from her and he backed away a couple steps. Antigones mummy whimpered quietly.

See what I said, Claytontheyve been feeding her lies and blasphemy

Theyre not lies! Carolina hissed, but her father pulled her away protectively before she could say any more.

Your daughter is going home with me for the holidays, Mr. Moon, Esmerelda spoke through clenched teeth, and Antigone could see her wand hand tense up. As kind as she was, there was no mistaking her for anything but a fully trained witch and one who would use her wand if needed. Though the way she held her wand, with the pointer finger extended, it could have been mistaken in passing for her pointing a finger at him. She is going home with me, she will be staying there over the summer, and I will be sending her back to Hogwarts in the fall. And I would advise you not to come searching for my place to try and snatch her away. Your daughter is not a fully trained witch, sir. But I am.

Antigones father didnt step forwards, but he glared directly at her. Until she returns to the flock, he spoke, his speech clipped, I have no daughter. He marched off, Antigones mother following quickly behind him.

It wasnt until they had disappeared into the crowd that Esmerelda slid her wand back into the inner pocket of her robes. Antigone let loose a hiccupping sob, and started crying as she realized what had happened. _Disowned. Ive been disowned by my daddy._

Morag, Padma, and Carolina came quickly to her side, and Esmerelda held a hand to her forehead as she watched Antigones parents walk off. I wasnt expecting that much confrontation, Antigone. Id heard of your father from you and your mother, but I never thought he was so bad. Soon as youre a bit calmer, Ill take you back to my placewell, its home for the next few monthsand Ill brew you up some nice hot tea. Oh, Antigone. She dropped into a kneel and pulled her close in a long hug. I wish I could make it all better, I really do.

Carolina handed Antigone one of her dark blue hankies to wipe her tears away with once Esmerelda had let her go. Itll be okay, Antigone, she whispered. Youll be coming back to Hogwarts, and Esmerelda will straighten this all out while youre there, and well keep you distracted. Ill write every day if I have to, send you sweets, Nike will take all your mail back and forth if you ask nicely, wont you, Nike? Nike replied with soft clicks of her beak. You can keep that hankie, Ive got three others, they were gifts from my mum but she wont know, and I promise Ill mail you as much as I can, okay?

Well all mail you, Tig, Padma added. Itll be okay, its going to be hard being a witch for but you wont give up, will you? Morag gave her hand a squeeze but was otherwise quiet.

Antigone nodded, her tears slowing. _It wont be easy. But I can do it._

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